voice of authority. "Old Bob" has one "groove" and it
is a personal matter about which he is very sensitive. He is under cover.
It is no secret, or I would not give way on him. But that luxuriant growth
of hair, apparent, comes off at night like his collar and necktie. It used
to be quite the fad in the League to "josh" "Bob" about his wig, but that
pastime has sort of died out now because he has proven himself to be such
a good fellow.

I had to laugh to myself, and not boisterously, in the season of 1911 when
Mr. Lynch appointed "Jack" Doyle, formerly a first baseman and a
hot-headed player, an umpire and scheduled him to work with Emslie. I
remembered the time several seasons ago when Doyle took offence at one of
"Bob's" decisions and wrestled him all over the infield trying to get his
wig off and show him up before the crowd. And then Emslie and he worked
together like Damon and Pythias. This business makes strange bed-fellows.

Emslie was umpiring in New York one day in the season of 1909, when the
Giants were playing St. Louis. A wild pitch hit Emslie over the heart and
he wilted down, unconscious. The players gathered around him, and
Bresnahan, who was catching for St. Louis at the time, started to help
"Bob." Suddenly the old umpire came to and began to fight off his
first-aid-to-the-injured corps. No one could understand his attitude as he
struggled to his feet and strolled away by himself, staggering a little
and apparently dizzy. At last he came back and gamely finished the
business of the day. I never knew why he fought with the men who were
trying to help him until several weeks later, when we were playing in
Pittsburg. As I came out from under the stand on my way to the bench,
Emslie happened to be making his entrance at the same time.

"Say, Matty," he asked me, "that time in New York did my wig come off? Did
Bresnahan take my wig off?"

"No, Bob," I replied, "he was only trying to help you."

"I thought maybe he took it off while I was down and out and showed me up
before the crowd," he apologized.

"Listen, Bob," I said. "I don't believe there is a player in either League
who would do that, and, if any youngster tried it now, he would probably
be licked."

"I'm glad to hear you say that, Matty," answered the old man, as he picked
up his wind pad and prepared to go to work. And he called more bad ones on
me that day than he ever had in his life before, but I never mentioned the
wig to him.

Mos