“He used to come to the Terrace sometimes too in the older days.But he was rough and harsh-spoken and difficult when he was drinking.His mind was on horses as well as baseball.At least he carried lists of horses at all times in his pocket and frequently spoke the names of horses on the telephone.”
“Naturally.But he makes the difference.In the other league, between Brooklyn and Philadelphia I must take Brooklyn.But then I think of Dick Sisler and those great drives in the old park.”
“There is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.”“I may not be as strong as I think,”the old man said.“ But I know many tricks and I have resolution.”
“I'll give him the belly meat of a big fish,”the old man said.“ Has he done this for us more than once?”
“I would like to take the great DiMaggio fishing,”the old man said.“ They say his father was a fisherman.Maybe he was as poor as we are and would understand.”
“That means nothing.The great DiMaggio is himself again.”
“You ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning.I will take the things back to the Terrace.”
“Supper,”said the boy.“ We're going to have supper.”
“Martin.The owner.”
“I know.But this is in bottles,Hatuey beer,and I take back the bottles.”
“I can remember it,”the old man said.“ I'll waken you in time.”