“Nor I. I just wondered. I do wish you could talk your mother around, though.”
“Why,” answered Johnny, “if I was to tell her I’d set my heart on it she’d not forbid me, Slim. But she’d be fearful all the time, and she’s had worry enough. And it isn’t like I cared much about it. Maybe I’d be a mighty poor football player, do you see? And, anyway, there’s basket ball, and baseball, too.”
“I didn’t know you played baseball,” said Slim.
“In the summer. We have a team here in town called the Crescents. I play second. Most of the fellows are older than me. It’s a good team, too.”
“Sure,” said Slim. “I’ve heard of the Crescents. Some of the fellows from the carpet mills are on it, eh?”
“Most of them are mill fellows; McCarty and O’Keefe and McCluer and Carnochan—”
“How come you don’t call yourselves the Shamrocks? Or the Sinn Feiners?”
“Well,” laughed Johnny, “our pitcher’s name is Cartier and the shortstop’s is Kratowsky. And then there’s—”
“Don’t,” begged Slim, “I can’t bear it! Who do you play against?”