OURTEEN years ago, a broad-shouldered, bowlegged German youth wandered into the quarters of the Steubenville baseball club out in Ohio, and asked

for a job. George L. Moreland, manager of the club, looked him over curiously.

"What can you do?" he asked. "Anything!" was the reply. Moreland shook his head. "There isn't a chance," he began, and then suddenly stopped. His gaze had fallen upon the hands of the applicant before him. They were the largest hands he

had ever seen, great calloused paws that hung gorilla-like from long, sinewy arms. And Moreland's baseball sense told him that they were the hands that could hold a baseball when once they clutched it. He determined to give the youngster a trial just on the strength of those hands, and he did. That night Manager Moreland signed up his new man at thirty-five dollars a month.

To-day this young German with the big hands is the highest salaried baseball player in the world. Those gorilla paws are earning $10,000 every year for seven months' work, and the name of Hans Wagner is known wherever baseball is played. Wagner is worth about

$100,000, the result of judicious investment of his earnings from the diamond, and only last winter he and his brother purchased an interest in a circus which is soon to go on the road.

It would be foolish to advise young men to adopt athletics as a profession, and equally foolish to advise them not to do so. It all depends upon the young man in question, his natural ability, his adaptability, and his inclination. It is true, however, that there is money-good big money, too-in pro

fessional athletics. The old saying goes that "the proof of the pudding is in the eating," and this story is perfectly willing to abide by that ancient platitude.

The field for bread-winning offered by athletics is not as large as that pro

vided by medicine and law, but there are several thousands of young men who are supporting families by active participation in various sports. Το them baseball, Marathon running, boxing, and hockey are just as steady occupations as law to the lawyer, medicine to the doctor, and machinery to the engineer.

There is scarcely an athletic contest of any kind to-day which does not include among its participants some one who is making at least a portion of his income by his

prowess. But of all the sports there is none that has met with such public favor as baseball.

At one time there was a general impression among those who knew this game from the outside only that the players were somewhat rough individuals

JOHN MCGRAW OF THE "GIANTS" IS A

GENERAL ON THE DIAMOND AND

A BUSINESS MAN OFF IT.

JOHN G. KLING, CATCHER FOR THE "CUBS," IS SAID TO HAVE SAVED $3,000 A YEAR

FOR SIX YEARS FROM HIS SALARY.

ranks of intercollegiate baseball is increasing yearly. There is hardly a club in either the National or American Leagues to-day that has not at least one university man in its personnel. In most instances there are several.

Many young fellows who have hung out their shingles as physicians, lawyers, and dentists play baseball from late February until early October. Then they turn their attention to the vocations for which they have studied. A certain professional or business prestige is even afforded to a man who has become a popular idol through his ability in sport. The man who is earning his money on the baseball field or in some other line of popular sport may be paving the way for a successful career in business fields when the time comes for him to seek them.

While speaking on this subject recently with a man who has been connected with the national game for some years, he said by way of example: "If John McGraw, manager of the New,

whose knowledge began and stopped on the diamond. The "fans," for whose daily amusement they performed, chose to consider that if deprived of a bat, ball, and mitt they would be forced to turn for support to a laborer's pick and shovel.

It took the men who play the national game a good many years to correct this popular delusion. Nowadays those players who have worn out their usefulness as active factors on the diamond, and have not so invested their earnings as to have some other business to turn to, are in the minority. Baseball has become a profession. The players look upon the game from a business standpoint-a business which provides ready cash to invest in more stable ventures.

In the old days it was the accepted opinion that the players were "reared" in the "back lots." At the present time the number of college graduates recruited to professional leagues from the

DORANDO PIETRI WAS ONCE A PASTRY-
COOK; NOW HE MAKES BIG MONEY
BY FAST RUNNING.

York Giants, had been an unknown man when he opened his billiard room in New York, it would not have been crowned with the success it has enjoyed. He gained his publicity through baseball, and to it he owes his success as a business man.

"And yet McGraw started at the bottom of the ladder in baseball, just as others have to begin at the beginning in other fields. He played ball at first with a small professional club for ten dollars a week and his board. But this does not imply that every man is fitted to succeed as McGraw has. A baseball player cannot be made. He can be polished off and instructed in the many intricacies of the game, but to become great on the diamond, he must have a certain amount of natural instinct."

This statement from a man so well informed in the inner workings of the national game shows how much like any profession is baseball. And the same statement applies to all professional sport.

Another remarkable example of financial success achieved through baseball is that of John G. Kling, catcher of the Chicago National League Club, which has won the world's championship for two consecutive seasons. In six years

is said to have saved an average of $3,000 a year of his salary. This he invested, and to-day his wealth is estimated at $90,000. In his home, Kansas City, he is considered a man of means. He owns real estate-fifty acres of it-on the outskirts of the city, which five years ago he bought for $5,000. He now values it at $30,000.

Like McGraw, Kling turned his attention to billiards in addition to real estate and baseball, and opened a room. He recently rented a five-story building in Kansas City for $9,000. Two of the floors he equipped with billiard tables, and subleased the rest for sums aggregating $12,000, which nets him a profit

of $3,000 yearly. It is said that Kling's income from his billiard business last year was $4,000, and with the increased size of his establishment there is no reason why this amount should not be doubled this year. The money that enabled Kling to embark on business ventures was gleaned from the baseball field.

The "fans" of New York will undoubtedly recall Dave Fultz, who at one time played center field on the New York American League Club. Fultz was known as the Y. M. C. A. ball player, because he would not play on Sunday, preferring to lecture at young men's meetings. He was a college man and a lawyer. During the "off season" he practiced law, and several years ago retired from the diamond to give his entire attention to his work.

Hugh Jennings, manager of the Detroit Tigers," is also a lawyer. During the past winter he was admitted to the Pennsylvania bar, and has already established a good practice. Jennings

played ball and secured the necessary funds with which to study law at Cornell University. His salary was said to be $5,000 a season.

One of the most successful managers in the business is Frank Leroy Chance, of the Chicago National League Club. A portion of the money he has made playing ball he has invested in an orange grove in California.

Many and varied are the business pursuits followed by the other players in the two major baseball organizations, the National and American Leagues. Roger Bresnahan, formerly of the "Giants," and now manager of the St. Louis "Cardinals," is a detective in Toledo when not playing ball. He is considering purchasing the controlling interest in the leading hotel of that city. Joe Tinker, of the Chicago "Cubs," has turned Thespian, as has "Mike" Donlin of the New York "Giants," and both have earned substantial sums in this way. Their salaries behind the footlights are said to have been $1,000 a week, and of course their power as drawing cards was due to their fame as athletes.

The story of a humble beginning that bore rich fruit is told of one of the

greatest pitchers of the day. "Christy " Matthewson's advent into "fast" company was extremely inauspicious.

"You work to-day, Matthewson!" The speaker was Manager "Buck" Ewing, of the New York "Giants." The scene, the Southern training quarters of the team, back in the spring of 1900. The tall, blond pitcher peeled off his sweater and stepped into the box to deliver his first ball as a big-leaguer.

The "Giant's " leader watched his recruit critically. For five innings Matthewson worked. On the way back to the hotel, Ewing turned to one of his regular pitchers, Win Mercer, and said: "He looks good, don't he!"

Matthewson had been drafted from the Norfolk Club of the Virginia League, and his salary was about $1,000 a year. Now he practically names his own price, which is said to be about $7,500. During the winter months he is an insurance agent, and oftentimes an irate customer is more willing to listen to the general lingo on policies when he knows it comes from a man with a world-wide reputation as an athlete.

Feet that Make Wages

A unique branch of professional sport, and a most remunerative one, has come into the limelight recently, though its origin dates from antiquity. This is Marathon running.

When William Sherring won the Olympic Marathon at Athens, in 1906, and returned to his home in Canada, he was met by a town delegation and presented with $10,000 in cash, a contribution from his fellow-citizens, a house and lot, and a good government job.

John Hayes, the department-store clerk, of New York City, who won this event at the Olympic games in London last summer, was mainly responsible for the Marathon craze that has swept in a wave of enthusiasm over this country. When Hayes arrived home he gave up his ill-paid position behind the counter and signed a contract as a vaudeville star for an amount said to be more than $1,000 a week. The theatrical engagement failed to pan out and was discontinued after a few weeks;