Explore "Lefty O' the Big League" by Burt L. Standish on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
In company with Jean Forsythe, a pretty, breezy Texas girl, Janet reached the baseball park the next afternoon about half past two. They drove down in Jean's runabout, and the little car had no sooner come to a stop on the turf back of first base than Miss Harting forgot everything but her enthusiasm at the sight she beheld.
The whole field seemed filled with brown-skinned, clear-eyed athletes engaged in the usual practice. A number of them were scattered over the diamond in their regular positions, while some one batted to them. At a little distance others were practicing bunting. Back by the grandstand an old pitcher was warming up easily. Farther on a couple of cub twirlers were doing the same thing, with much more snap and speed. The crack of wood meeting leather sounded rhythmically, intermingled with shouts and joshing laughter. Balls curved gracefully into the sunlight. The air was soft and balmy, and full of the fragrance of growing things. The sky was a brilliant, cloudless blue, and it was springtime.