Catcher's Kids

One o'cat* is played mostly in the country. Urchins borrow pitching gloves worn by their fathers through a career on the highschool nine, gather in a meadow, "measure a bat" for first up, compete through long summer mornings with protesting squeals and squawks that stir the catbirds to caustic music.

In Manhattan, pasty-faced children are more usually content to cry and squabble over tootsie rolls. Not, however, the' brawny sons of Albert Devormer, famed catcher for the New York Giants. They, Earl, 8, and Oral, 9, are accustomed to gather about them their small and noisy cronies, to snarl about who has "next licks" in the middle of St. Nicholas Avenue. Usually, because they wear their father's prestige as well as his old mitts, their snarls are effective. Last week, when Policeman Harry Gallagher told them to stop playing, their snarls ceased to be effective. Hence Devormer pere was stung into action. Bursting into the midst of the childish argument the-- catcher seized Patrolman Gallagher by an arm. He shouted, full of a proud fury: "These kids are all right! They can play ball right here if they want to! They don't get in anybody's way! Let them alone!"

Unimpressed, Patrolman Gallagher escorted Catcher Devormer, his sons, their toadies, to the police station. Soon he saw Catcher Devormer get in a taxi and set off for the Polo Grounds, saw Catcher Devormer's sons, jeering and sneering, trot back to their home. The judge had given a suspended sentence to the Devormers, pere & fils, had gently advised the brothers to play no more one o'cat in St. Nicholas Avenue, the catcher-father to interfere with no more officers.

* More correctly, One Old Cat. This game is derived from baseball, is played with batting and fielding, changing by rotation rather than by inning. Any number, usually not more than five, can play. As a batter is put out on the run from home to first base and back to home, he moves into the position of the most remote fielder.