of a dollar and a half per week, he should each afternoon carry home
from the good things unsold a moderate something as a present to his
mother. The baker agreed, and Edward promised to come each afternoon
except Saturday.

"Want to play ball, hey?" said the baker.

"Yes, I want to play ball," replied the boy, but he was not reserving
his Saturday afternoons for games, although, boy-like, that might be his
preference.

Edward now took on for each Saturday morning--when, of course, there was
no school--the delivery route of a weekly paper called the South
Brooklyn Advocate. He had offered to deliver the entire neighborhood
edition of the paper for one dollar, thus increasing his earning
capacity to two dollars and a half per week.

Transportation, in those days in Brooklyn, was by horse-cars, and the
car-line on Smith Street nearest Edward's home ran to Coney Island. Just
around the corner where Edward lived the cars stopped to water the
horses on their long haul. The boy noticed that the men jumped from the
open cars in summer, ran into the cigar-store before which the
watering-trough was placed, and got a drink of water from the ice-cooler
placed near the door. But that was not so easily possible for the women,
and they, especially the children, were forced to take the long ride
without a drink. It was this that he had in mind when he reserved his
Saturday afternoon to "play ball."

Here was an opening, and Edward decided to fill it. He bought a shining
new pail, screwed three hooks on the edge from which he hung three clean