“Um. Spell it with a ‘Y’”
“Not much. Just plain Smith.”
“Good; and the position?”
“Catcher.”
“We’ve got three, but never mind. Accidents will happen. Next!”
“Smith,” said Bill laconically. “Plain Bill.”
“I see. And you’d like to be—”
“Pitcher.”
“Good again, as Mr. Pumblechook would say. Do you know Mr. Pumblechook?”
“Slightly,” answered Bill, as he recalled his Dickens.