TWIRLING THE SPHERES.

Waikato Times, Volume XXX, Issue 2426, 28 January 1888, Page 1 (Supplement)

TWIRLING THE SPHERES.

I was born too soon, began my career too early, so to speak. Ah, wull ! that is a conclusion which every woman must reach at some period of her life, be it sooner or later ; a period when she sees those who have come after her preferred before her. But in my own case, Ido not allude to the period when gray hairs begin to appear, when crow's-feet advance, and wrinkles (to use a dressmakers phrase) shirr the countenance into a thousand seams, gathers and puckers. No, that is not what I mean at all ; for I am not old. To borrow the words of the gifted Klizabeth Barrett Browning : "I, writing thus, am still what men call young; I have not an far left the coasts of life To travel inland, that 1 cannot bear," and tulle, and look just as well as ever I did. But I refer to the gradual removal of thoso barriers that custom formerly placed before tho freedom of my unfortunate sex. "A woman ashamed of her sex ! " I hear some man exclaim, and I hasten to reply; " Never ; but impatient of its limitations and restrictions." And yet lam uot for woman's rights. Not I. But 1 note, witli a decided feeling , of having been left, that much of tho emancipation from eiiftom's iron rule has come too late to benefit me. For instance, when I was a child, and indeed, it is not so long ago, 'twas regarded as unmistakable evidence of total depravity, a certain manifestation of original sin, when any lit.tle Hiri did not wish to " .sit up and act like a lady ; " but., on the contrary, desired " To Jump and romp and shout like boys, To vex the family with noise," as was net forth in that meutor of my childhood, "The Rood Girl's Soliloquy," so übiquitous that 'twas being quoted on I all occasion?. That hnted distich, together I with the verse full of awful warning and worse rhymes, about whittling girls and crowing liens, frequently followed an occasion when I had " vexed the family." The little girl who ever longed to climb a tree, and was unhappy because, living iu the city, she hud to confine her scansory attempts to walking the fences with the eats, and envying them their sure-footedness and immunity from bumps, was on the high road to something dreadful. By tho way, while iu Oakland, last week, I passed one of the landmarks of my visits to a relative who lived in the country, as the Athens of the Pacific seemed to mo then. And 10, a wood- ( man, a very prosaic sort of fellow, with j axe, buck and saw, was cutting up a tree into cord-wood—a tree by whose trunk I have often shinned, barking my knees and tearing my clothes in my endeavours to go far, far out on the longest branch, where more than once, becoming "stuck," in the graphic phraseology of tho rest of the boys—my petticoats, humiliating badge of my sex, and my inferiority as a climber, fluttered as signals of distress until I was rescued from my perilous position. I felt sorry to see the old tree go, and as if climbing trees were not enough in itself to condemn a little girl who spun a top —"a boxwooder," and a "long-pegger " at that, and picked it up on her thumb-nail, who borrowed a waggon on the sly, and went coasting down the hill on the next block, out of the visual range of the maternal eye—oh,'such a child inspired the neighborhood with wonderment, and was a dreadful tomboy. Even the family physician declared her " certain to grow up into either a very good woman, or a very bad one," with the accent of probabilities upon the alternative. But to-day—ah, why was I born so soon ? The physical culture of woman, how to attain it, when to begin it—claims the attention of editor, physician and educator alike. Little girls may play with boys if they choose—skate, ride velocipedes or waggons, I was a tomboy for shooting with an arrow whittled out of a broom-stick, and a bow made from a barrel-hoop ; but now, the noble sport of archery is a favourite and a very lady like pastime. But my retrospection is not all tinged with regret. In one respect I early tasted a pleasure which most of my sex are but just beginning to enjoy. I refer to our national game, baseball. Oh, my memories of baseball! From the depths of my soul I pity those who arc only going to the bat, whose innings (as far as an interest in the game is concerned) are but just bosun. Why, I may say I grew up on tho back fence, watching the boys in the next lot play ball ; and now that I may go to the baseball grounds and sit under a board canopy and watch professionals play the srame, my delight is supreme. Need I say that my j appreciation of the sport is heightened by the recollection of my own experience. That even now lam proud of the implied praise which fell to me when my small and supor-sensitivo brother made a uomo run in good style, crying, as hi) crossed tho plat, " Oh, mamma, I wish you'd make Diana come in ; all tho boys say she bats a ball hully." Now, that is just what some of the boys have been doing lately. And the women anions , the spectators of the game —what about them ? The plain, honest truth is that many of them were vastly surprised to find themselves there at all. More than one has confessed that before she ever attended a game of baseball, she had always considered it on a level—and that a low one—with prize fights and Sunday picnics. But it does not take long to convert a woman into a baseball enthusiast of the most pronounced type. After a few explanntions, which her gallant escort is only to happy to give, she keeps a scorebook with tolerable precision, knows the players by name, and champions one club or another. As might only be expected, her first preference was based entirely upon tho appearance of tho men, and it must be admitted that, in assuming many of tho positions necessary in the game, some of the men do fill their ctathes much more becomingly than others. But it does not take long to educate the feminine mind up to a proper appreciation of the skill and the science of baseball. She soon learns to note how hard it is to get balls off a certain pitcher whose twisters aro geometric mysteries. She applauds the short-stop when he catches a man out on a fly. Sho knows a foul and its dangers ; and no one is moro amused than she when some player, in his haste to make his run, trips and reaches his base before he is near tho "pin-cushion," as, with feminine appropriateness, she has denominated tho bag at each base. §he knows how it must sting to pick up a hot grounder, and she thrills with excitement

wlion .'ill tho bases lire full. She even ventures to take exceptions to the rulings of thu umpire, and joins in the hiss that greetn an adverse deSision. There is but one more step for the feminine baseball enthusiast, and that is organise a society champion nine of her own sex. She will do it yet, and then for one to twirl the sphere come to Di Vkrn-on*.