Читать книгу First Base Faulkner онлайн

52 страница из 60

“I wish,” said Joe this evening, “that I could do something.”

“What do you mean, do something?” asked Jack lazily, turning slightly to take his weight off a lame hip.

“Something like other fellows,” explained Joe frowningly. “I can’t play hockey or basketball or tennis or—or even skate! I can’t play football, either. Most fellows can do two or three things well. I’m no good at anything.”

“Piffle!” said Jack. “You play baseball, don’t you? And you can skate pretty well.”

“Yes, like a ton of bricks! As for baseball, well, yes, I can catch a ball if it’s thrown at me and I can bat a little and I’m fairly fast on bases. But I’m no wonder at it. I want to play something decently, Jack.”

“I suppose you’re making things out worse than they really are. Any fellow can do those stunts if he tries hard enough. Funny you don’t play tennis, though. Why?”

“I never cared for it. I guess the reason I don’t do things is because I never wanted to much before. Beside, at home—in Akron—I was always pretty busy with other things. I—I studied pretty hard——”