e had never heard of Guelph; we did not care anything about Rube
baseball teams. Baseball was not play to us; it was the hardest kind
of work, and of all things an exhibition game was an abomination.

The Guelph players, strapping lads, met us with every mark of respect
and courtesy and escorted us to the field with a brass band that was
loud in welcome, if not harmonious in tune.

Some 500 men and boys trotted curiously along with us, for all the
world as if the bus were a circus parade cage filled with striped
tigers. What a rustic, motley crowd massed about in and on that ball
ground. There must have been 10,000.

The audience was strange to us. The Indians, half-breeds,
French-Canadians; the huge, hulking, bearded farmers or traders, or
trappers, whatever they were, were new to our baseball experience.

The players themselves, however, earned the largest share of our
attention. By the time they had practiced a few moments we looked at
Merritt and Merritt looked at us.

These long, powerful, big-handed lads evidently did not know the
difference between lacrosse and baseball; but they were quick as cats
on their feet, and they scooped up the ball in a way wonderful to see.
And throw!--it made a professional's heart swell just to see them line
the ball across the diamond.

"Lord! what whips these lads have!" exclaimed Merritt. "Hope we're not
up against it. If this team should beat us we wouldn't draw a handful
at Toronto. We can't afford to be beaten. Jump around and cinch the
game quick. If we get in a bad place, I'll sneak in the 'rabbit.'"

The "rabbit" was a baseball similar in appearance to the ordinary
league ball; under its horse-hide cover, however, it was remarkably
different.

An ingenious fan, a friend of Merritt, had removed the covers from a
number of league balls and sewed them on rubber balls of his own
making. They could not be distinguished from the regular article, not
even by an experienced professional--until they were hit. Then! The
fact that after every bounce one of these rubber balls bounded swifter
and higher had given it the name of the "rabbit."

Many a game had the "rabbit" won for us at critical stages. Of course
it was against the rules of the league, and of course every player in
the league knew about it; still, when it was judiciously and cleverly
brought into a close game, the "rabbit" would be in play, and very
probably over the fence, before the opposing captain c