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Worthington Plantation, Chicot County, Arkansas, October 1, 1870:
The pitch sailed in and the man at the bat swung hard. The ball soared into the sky, over the heads of the men in the field. The batter looked at it, bat in hand.
"Run, Jasper!" the onlookers all shouted, nearly in unison.
Jasper held up the bat. "Now why'd I do that? I've got two more strikes a-coming, don't I?"
Out in the distant field, someone retrieved the ball and threw it back towards the infield.
"Jasper, you need to run!"
"No, I want my two strikes."
Now the ball was in the infield, where the baserunner was tagged out.
"Jasper, you are a plum fool!" the man said as he jogged off the field.
Jasper looked confused. His brother James strolled over to him, chuckling.
"Jasper, you are supposed to run after you strike the ball," he explained while trying not to laugh in his brother's face.
"You tell 'im Jim! He's gonna cost us the match!"
James turned and, glaring, shot back, "Now you hush up. When you can smash the ball a mile, then you can flap them gums. Until then, you just be quiet."
James continued to explain the game to his younger brother. Though Jasper was but 15 years old, the youngster showed a prodigious talent for the game - and an equally prodigious lack of knowledge of the rules.
"Jim, you know we only get to play on Saturdays. It's back in the fields come Monday."
James shot another angry look. "I know that you fool. Hell, we all know that. Now will you shut up while I explain this to Jasper?"
Jasper was puzzled. "Why should I run? I have two more strikes, James."
James calmly explained the rules to his brother - again. Jasper was physically gifted, but his mental aptitude had never really developed. Of course, as slaves, all Mr. Worthington cared about was how strong their backs were - their intelligence was of no moment to the man.
Elishu Worthington owned 500 slaves and James doubted if he even knew James and Jasper's names, let alone anything else about them. Thinking about Mr. Worthington made James think back on the time, eight years ago now, that old George - father to James and Jasper - had been heard wishing for a Yankee victory in the war. Mr. Worthington had not liked that, not at all. And just like that, old George had been sold to someone in Louisiana.
James wondered if he'd ever see his father again. At least he had Jasper - and they both had their Saturday afternoon base ball matches. Now if Jasper could just learn the rules...
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