drawn with the score a tie."

This was one of the hardest seasons that I had ever gone through, and
when it was over I felt that we were lucky, indeed, to have captured the
pennant for the third successive time.

The champion team of that year showed but little change in make-up from
that of the preceding year, Clarkson, McCormick and John Flynn being the
pitchers; Kelly, Flint and Moolie, catchers; Anson, first base; Pfeffer,
second base; Burns, third base; Williamson, shortstop; Dalrymple, left
field; Ryan and Gore, center field; and Sunday, right field.

It was a close race that season between, Mike Kelly and myself for the
batting honors of the League, and Michael beat me out by a narrow margin
at the finish, his percentage being .388 as against .371, while
Brouthers came third on the list with .370.

That was the last season that the championship pennant was flown in
Chicago up to the present writing, and looking back at it now it seems
to me an awful long time ago.

CHAPTER XVI. BALL-PLAYERS EACH AND EVERY ONE.

The team that brought the pennant back to Chicago in the years 1885 and
1886 was, in my estimation, not only the strongest team that I ever had
under my management but, taken all in all, one of the strongest teams
that has ever been gotten together in the history of the League, the
position of left field, which was still being played by Dalrymple being
its only weak spot. The fact, however, that "Dal" was a terrific batter
made up for a great many of his shortcomings in tile field, which would
scarcely have been overlooked so easily had it not been for his ability
as a wielder of the ash. In its pitching department it was second in
strength to none of its competitors and behind the bat were Flint and
Kelly, both of whom were widely and favorably known. The outfield was,
to say the least, equal to that of any of the other League clubs, and
the infield admittedly the strongest in the country. This was the
infield that became famous as "Chicago's stone wall," that name being
given to it for the reasons that the only way that a ball could be
gotten through it was to bat it so high that it was out of reach. The
members of that famous infield were Williamson, Pfeffer, Burns and
myself, and so long had we played together and so steadily had we
practiced that there was scarcely a play made that we were not in
readiness to meet. We had a system of signals that was almost perfect,
and the moment that a bal