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It was at Indianapolis, on July 18, 1890, in a brown, shingled house on Pennsylvania Street, that I first 'saw the world that has treated me with so much kindness. The picturesque house is still standing, I believe, and I know that the big elms still meet to form a leafy arch way over the street. At the time I was born there was a pretty garden with many roses at the back of the house. That was my first playground. Interesting families lived in all the houses along that street, and children, who have Since found many differ ent paths in life, played in those gardens. Altogether it was rather an ideal spot for a birthplace, but it seems a little strange that I should have been born there. I am pretty sure that not another man so thoroughly addicted to Sports as I have been throughout my life, ever caught his first glimpse of daylight in that com munity, for the general spirit of the place, at that time at least, seemed a little too serious for sport.