By WILLIAM C. UTLEY
PRING fever in the country
is baseball fever this year—
big league baseball. Tall gang-
ling kids are leaning on hoes
with a far-away look in their
eyes and dreaming of breezing
'em past the Giants, the Car-
dinals, the Yankees.
Freckle - faced youngsters,
stretched out on the cool grass
around the old swimmin' hole, con-
jure up visions of making Mel Ott
run for cover with a blazing fast
ball, or handcuffing Al Simmons
with a jack-rabbit inshoot. Still oth-
er boys stare at the pages of his-
tory and algebra books and find
them covered with “earned runs’
averages and strikeout records.
Reason: Bob Feller, christened
Robert William, of Van Meter,
Jowa. Other boys in their teens
dreamed of walking right out of the
cornfields to the major leagues and
standing the heavy hitters on their
burning ears. Bob Feller actually
did it. Which proves that Ameri-
ca is still America, and a country
boy can make good overnight in
the “big time" if he has the heart.
Feller's “Color” Rivals Ruth,
Babe Ruth was that kind of a boy,
even if he came from a big city.
He was an orphan who had to make
his way in the world. He became
baseball's highest paid player,
reaching at his peak a contract
which called for $80,000 for a single
season. He was a national hero
with his 50 or 60 home runs a year,
and in every open field and sand-
lot the kids were gripping heavy
bats at the end and swinging for all
they were worth in the effort to ape
their idol by lambasting one into the
next congressional district. With his
hulking frame, his good humor, his
Horatio Alger history, he was prob-
ably the most colorful figure sport
has ever produced.
Up to now. They are saying that
Feller will be a greater hero to
young America than even the
mighty Babe. Since that memor-
able day, September 13, 1936, when
Bob Feller, wearing the gray uni-
form of the Cleveland Indians
though he was only seventeen
years old, struck out 17 Philadel-
phia Athletics to break an Ameri-
can league record which had stood
for 28 years, and tie the major
league mark set by the great Dizzy
Dean himself, the Iowa farm boy's
name has been at the tip of every
youthful tongue.
It's a good thing. Bob Feller is a
clean, strong, healthy boy--a real
boy. He is not afraid of hard work,
never forsaking chores on his dad's
farm, even for baseball, until he
made baseball his profession. He'll
get $10,000 for playing this year,
and another $40,000 from advertis-
ing testimonials. But he still wears
the same size hat. He hasn't tak-
en up smoking, drinking or danc-
ing, his studies go on under a tutor
for he hopes to be graduated from
high school, and he gets 12 hours
sleep a night.
Better than anything else he likes
to pitch that baseball. He has ev-
erything, except a change of pace
perhaps, but he doesn’t miss that
much. Sport writers say his fast
one is as fast as Walter Johnson's
a generation ago; about Johnson
they used to say, "How can you hit
what you can’t see?”
Coach Wally Schang of the Cleve-
land team, who, in his day, caught
Eddie Plank and Chief Bender and
others famed in the annals of the
game, says: “There was never any-
one like him. Mark my words—
he'll go down in history as the
greatest pitcher who ever lived.”
But the most important praise of
all came from Umpire Bill Klem,
grizzled veteran who has called 'em
as he saw 'em for longer than most
of us care to remember. After
watching Feller make the National
league champion New York Giants
look like grammar school boys try-
ing for his fast ball, Klem said:
“I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Son Lives Father's Dream.
How did Bob Feller get that way,
at an age when most boys cre try-
ing to train that cowlick out of their
hair to look slick at the high school
“prom’? The answer is found in
William Andrew Feller, the tall,
wiry Iowa farmer who gazes with
mingled awe and satisfaction at his
son's exploits. It was all part of
the senior Feller’s plan. Never suc-
ceeding in his own ambition to be-
come a professional ball player, he
determined to make one of his son.
Accordingly, Bob's baseball edu-
cation began early—when he was
four. He and his father played
catch, using the barn for a back-
stop, for Bob's control wasn't very
good then, either. By the time he
was fourteen young Feller could
throw them in fast enough to crack
his father’s ribs, and he did. That
was when Dad got a little careless
judging the hop on Son's smoke
ball, The barn’s sides were appar-
ently more solid than those of Mr,
Feller, for they were only dented a
bit when Bob let loose with a wild
one.
Bob could throw a baseball 275
feet by the time he was nine, and
350 feet when he became thirteen;
that is farther than the distance
from the outfield fence to the home
plate in most major league ball
parks, and there are few big league
players who can throw a ball that
far on the fly.
Dad Feller thought Bob was ready
to begin playing in 1932, so to make
sure he would start under the right
circumstances Mr. Feller built a
good baseball diamond on their 360-
acre farm, provided fences and a
small grandstand. He organized his
own team, the Oak Views, with Bob
playing shortstop and chasing the
cattle and fowl out of the ‘‘park”
before the games. Playing short in
1933, Bob hit .321, which means he
made a safe hit in just about one
of every three trips to the plate.
He had a throw that nearly tore off
the first baseman’'s hand.
Bob Starts a Game.
In grade school young Bob had
liked to pitch, and had organized a
nine to give the Van Meter high
school team some practice. With
Bob on the mound the little fellows
licked the high school in seven of
eight practice games. Dad Feller
remembered this in the third inning
of a game in Winterset, Iowa, in the
spring of 1934. The Oak Views had
hired a pitcher to hurl this impor-
tant encounter. He had to be taken
from the game with the bases full
and nobody out in the third inning.
Bob was sent in to pitch. He struck
out the next two batters and got
Ready to heave a fast one.
two strikes over on the third. Then
the runner on third tried to steal
home. A perfect throw from Bob
enabled the catcher to nip him at
the plate.
By the middle of that July the
Oak Views had decided Bob was
good enough to be used as a start-
ing pitcher, and let him start a
game against the Waukee, Iowa,
team.
“1 was fifteen years old then,”
says Bob, “and weighed about 140
pounds. I'm six feet now and weigh
around 185.”
He was wild against Waukee, but
when he put men on the bases by
virtue of walks he relied on the fast
one to get himself out of the hole.
“I still do that today,” he says.
“Pitching for Cleveland, I have
fanned three in a row, using nothing
but speed.”
Bob struck out 23 Waukee play-
ers, allowing two hits, and the Oak
Views won, 9 to 2.
Bob Sees World Series.
And so it went. Game after game,
Iowa's boy wonder went on to fan
13, 15, 18 or 20 of the opposing nines,
allowing only two or three hits and
often pitching a shutout. By the
end of the 1934 season he had rolled
up the almost incredible record of
157 innings pitched, 25 games won
against four lost, and 360 strikeouts.
He allowed only 41 hits and 21
earned runs, To top it all off, his
batting average for the year was
403, a phenomenal mark.
Bob got his reward that fall after
the season in Iowa was over. His
dad took him to St. Louis to see the
World Series games. They lived in
a tourist camp, and it was great
fun. But the quality of major
league baseball, even as played by
the Gas House Gang (who were to
learn about a young man named
Feller at a later date) and the
classy Detroit Tigers, failed to give
Bob cold feet. After watching some
of the game's famous pitchers at
their work, Bob said, ‘I think I
can do better than that."
sistant to the president of the
Cleveland American league club,
that there was something burning
up the Iowa cornfields and it wasn't
the drouth. With some misgivings
he journeyed out to give Bob Feller
the once-over.
What Slapnicka saw he was re-
luctant to believe. But after watch-
ing a few games he finally became
convinced, and signed Bob Feller to
a contract with the Fargo-Moor-
There is a rule in organized base-
minor league.
$100,000 Bid for Him.
Some clubs contended last win-
ter that this rule had been violated
in the Feller case and that, there-
fore, Feller should be declared a
“free agent” by Judge Kenesaw M.
Landis, high commissioner of base-
ball. A ‘free agent” is a player
1
and may sell himself to the highest
bidder.
Although Bob actually never
pitched for any minor league club,
he had been owned by two, and
Landis decided that he was still
the property of the Indians. It was
reported that other clubs had been
ready to offer Bob as much as $100,-
000 as a bonus for signing a con-
tract if the commissioner had de-
cided otherwise,
The Fargo-Moorhead club had im-
mediately turned Bob over to New
Orleans, in the Southern associa-
tion. New Orleans retired him last
spring so that he could attend high
school. As soon as his school se-
mester was over, Cleveland drafted
him from New Orleans. Manager
Steve O'Neill of the Indians allowed
the youngster to play with a semi-
pro team in the Great Lakes city,
go the Indian brain trust could keep
an eye on him. They didn't have
to watch him for long.
On July 8 O'Neill
was ready to taste big time opposi-
tion, and allowed him to pitch
“Buried—But Not Dead”
By FLOYD GIBBONS
DVENTURE sure laid an icy hand on the shoulder of Joseph
Kurtiz, who sent me one of the best written yarns I've had
to date. Joe lives in Brooklyn now and at last writing could
have used a job. He gave up his youthful ambition to be a mining
switched to mechanical engineering. But, if you ask me, the
magazines are looking for people who can write like Joe.
Accordingly, I'm following his script pretty close.
was a surveyor with the Glen Alden Coal company, Scranton, Pa. It was
his first job, and he was assigned to investigating ‘pillar robbing’ in the
Cayuga mine. I'll explain.
Miners must leave enough coal to support the roof of the mine,
which consists of shale, a scaly rock, that caves in easily. Pillar
robbing means stealing coal from these remaining supports, : nd
is illegal, since it may cause cave-ins in which workers are killed,
gas and water mains burst, even explode, and brick buildings
standing on the land collapse. It's earthquake, fire and flood.
Fine Place for an Avalanche.
The Ceyuga had been deserted for fifty years. Inside Joe and three
companions found pillars cracked and crumbled by the weight of mil-
lions of tons of rock they had held up for five decades. As supports they
were useless and might just as well have been mined out. Old timbers
rected by miners to protect themselves in those far, bygone years
were rotted, useless. A touch and they collapsed to fungi-infested, mil-
Not much between Joe and the millions of tons of rock
over his head.
Worse, the workings were of the “pitch’ type—each chamber like a
long, sloping tunnel, some very steep. The roof was dangerously cracked.
Slabs of shale hung so loose a breath would send them crashing to the
floor. Fallen rock covered the steeply-slanting floor in sizes from a fist
to a dining-room table. This “gob” can start an avalanche on the
slanting tunnel floor.
Joe's duties—lovely job!—were to climb over this loose rock,
covered with slime. If he made it, it was safe for the others
to come up. If he didn't and started a fatal avalanche—Joe forgot
to teli about that.
A Pocket of Gas Was Ignited.
Well, sir, Joe climbed gingerly upward, clinging to the glistening
He stepped, light as a falling feather, testing every
footfall. At the top our “human fly,” as Joe calls himself, was to es-
tablish a point for the transit—a surveyor's instrument—to shoot at
Joe never made it. Twenty feet from the top—Bom! An explosion
like a giant bassdrum shook the earth in a bolt of livid flame. GAS!
Joe's light had ignited a pocket of whitedamp!
Splinter! Crack! Crash! The shock jerked rock toppling
from the roof, dropped it on the loose ‘gob’ on the steeply-siant-
ing floor! THE SLIDE WAS ON!
At first, with thumps scarcely audible above the rolling rumble of
rock raced, leaping and thundering downward past Joe, hurtling into
Buried—and in Inky Darkness.
Joe's lamp had gone ou* with the explosion. But above him was a
blinding glare—a marching surf of blue-and-red-streaked fire, lighting up
the chamber overhead. Blistering white heat above—thundering flood of
angry rock below! Joe clung to the pillar on his stomach, ducking hurt
ling rocks, shrinking from the blazing heat above. With clawing fingers
and toes that vainly sought foothold in the hard floor, he lay there—it
seemed ages—aching muscles a-torture. The slide diminished. The “‘car-
bonic oxide” above burned fitfully, threatening any second to seek out
with its rainbow flames another pocket, spreading in chain explosions
through the underground terrain, burying Joe and his companions.
Joe thought of the others. Had they been crushed to a jelly-
smear under those tons of rock—trapped in some doghole or cross-
cut in a pillar?
The rolling flames died, went out. In the inky black Joe groped
for a match, lit his lamp. The fioor was clear. He stepped out. In-
stantly he tobogganed down on a slab of rock he had overlooked. Four
hundred feet below he brought up short on the heap of loose rock. It
had blocked the entrance completely.
No Wonder Panic Seized Him.
Joe was CAUGHT LIKE A RAT. He sat on a rock, wondered that
to Bob from the pitching mound
backs, just as had
swingers out in Iowa,
Bob Wins Dizzy's Praise.
At the end of his
the cornfield
Cardinals, including some of the
cream of their far-famed attack.
hits off him. Even Dizzy Dean was
moved to talk about some one other
than himself. “The kid's got plenty
of stuff,” he admitted. Pepper Mar-
tin, another of the league's topflight
stars who had gone down before
Feller's blazing pitches, testified, “I
couldn't find his curve ball at all
He knows how to pitch.”
It was enough to convince O'Neill
that Bob Feller was no dream, but
a real flesh-and-blood baseball play-
er. He nominated the kid on Aug-
ust 23 to start his first full major-
league game,
The results were all that could be
asked for. As Bob walked from the
field two hours later, after striking
out 15 batters of the St. Louis
Browns, the crowd roared. A seven-
teen-year-old boy had come within
one strikeout of tying the American
league record set by the immortal
Rube Waddell in 1909. “Heck,” said
Bob Feller, “I did better than that
back in Iowa!”
As it has been related, he did bet.
ter than that in the American
league, breaking Waddell's mark
three weeks later against the Ath-
jetics. He finished the season with
a record of five won and three lost,
and in 62 innings he had fanned
76 batters. His earned-runs aver-
age, the best measure of a pitcher's
effectiveness, was 3.34, second only
to the veteran Lefty Grove of the
Boston Red Sox.
© Western Newspaper Union.
It seemed suddenly very precious, sun and open air. Air! The
rock had sucked much out, the explosion had driven more out and the
fire had burned he didn't know how much of the life-giving oxygen in
that black pit. Would the rest last till they got to him?
Then, Joe says, panic did grip him. He shouted himself
hoarse. He smashed a rock repeatedly against a pillar, listened.
Not a sound. Just silence. TERRIBLE SILENCE. Joe saw
slow death ahead-—suffocation, thirst, starvation. Unwounded, he
wished for death—swift death, rather than this drawn-out agony.
Now he could only wait helplessly.
Joe says he prefers to forget the next nine hours. Imagination
But--his companions had es-
A
relay of rescue crews, working as only mine rescue crews can, dug
through the pillar from an adjoining chamber and pulled Joe out nine
From that day on the only coal Joe can stand looking at is in a
stove. He quit the mining engineer career cold. But I still say he can
©-WNU Service.
Sunbonnet Girls to
Applique on a Quilt
S80 quaint, so colorful-—these
adorable “‘Sunbonnet” maidens
with their bobbing balloonz—you
won't be able to wait to applique
them on a quilt! The block meas-
ures 9 inches. Here's a long-locked-
for opportunity to utilize those gay
scraps you've been saving. You
Pattern 5724
can use the same design on scarfs
and pillows and so complete a
{ bedroom ensemble. The patches
| are simple in form-—you'll find the
work goes quickly. In pattern 5724
you will find the Block Chart, an
illustration for cutting, sewing and
finishing, together yardage
chart, diagram of quilt to help
arrange the blocks for s le and
double bed size, am of
block which
with
and a diagr
as a guide
patches and sug-
naterials,
serves
and pattern numbe
Mail Service in Alaska
Alaska is the show place of mail
service, the last frontier, the re-
gion of the greatest variety of
mail transportation in the world.
There one may see the mail car-
ried by railroad, wheeled herse
vehicles, horse sleds, dog sleds,
reindeer sleds, by men on foot and
on snowshoes, by steamboat, gas-
oline boat, the white man's row-
| airplane. —Washington Post.
I Why Laxatives
Fail In Stubbora
Constipation
Twelve to 24 hours is too long to walt
when relief from clogged bowels and
constipation is needed, for then ener.
mous guantities of bacteria accumu.
late, causing GAS, indigestion and
many restiess, sleepless nights,
if you want REAL, QUICK RELIEF,
take a liquid compound such as Ad.
lerika. Adilerika contains SEVEN ca.
thartic and carminative ingredients
that act on the stomach and BOTH
bowels. Most “overnight” laxatives
contain one ingredient that acts on the
lower bowel only.
Adlerika’'s DOUBLE ACTION gives
your system a thorough cleansing,
bringing out old poisonous waste mat.
ter that may have caused GAS pains,
sour stomach, headaches and sleepless
nights for months.
dierika relieves stomach GAS at
once and usually removes bowel con.
gestion in less than two hours. Neo
waiting for overnight results. This
famous treatment has been recom.
mended by many doctors and drug.
pists for 35 years. Take Adlerika one.
half hour before breakfast or one hour
before bedtime and in a short while
you will feel marvelously refreshed.
At all Leading Druggists.
Books Are Company
| If you can entertain yourself,
| you are fortified against many a
| Jong evening without company.
Try the companionship of books.
i
. To Women:
If you suffer every month you owe
it to yourself to take note of Cardul
and find out whether it will benefit
you
Functional pains of menstruation
have, in many, many cases, been
eased by Cardul. And where mal-
nutrition (poor nourishment) had
taken away women's strength, Car
dul has been found to Increase the
appetite, improve digestion and in that
way help to build up s natural resistance
to certain useless suffering. (Where Care
dul falls to benefit, consult a physician.)
Ask your druggist for Cardul — (pro-
sounced “Card-u4d.")
Bees Do Not Sting You
if You Display No Fear
According to the popular notion,
insects are physically unable to
penetrate the human skin no mat-
ter how hard they may ply their
stingers, vecause the pores are
then closed, notes a writer in the In-
dianapolis News. The United States
bureau of entomology investigated
ing, but the difference is not suf-
ficient to interfere with the opera-
tion of the bee's stinger. If bees
Macaroni Club Figured
in “Yankee Doodle” Song
The word “macaroni” in the song,
“Yankee Doodle” is more than |
merely nonsense. It is a remnant |
of eighteenth century English slang,
declares a writer in the Cleveland
Plain Dealer,
About 1772 a group of young Eng-
lishmen of wealth and leisure, most
of whom had spent considerable
time on the continent and particu-
larly in Italy, formed a fashionable
organization which they called the
Macaroni club. The name was taken
from the fact that as one of their
peculiarities or individualities, they
served macaroni at the club din-
ners. The dish was then little known
in England, and was practically in-
troduced in that country by the
Macaroni club.
The Macaronis also sought for
singularity in dress and manners.
Show Intelligence
You don’t hear babies using the
baby talk that grown people utter
to them.
KILLS INSECTS
botties, from pour dealer