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Of formal education the boy Sunday had but little. He went to school intermittently, like most of his playmates, but he did get into the high school, although he was never graduated. Early in life he began to work for his living, even before he went off to the Soldiers' Orphanage. Concerning these periods of early toil he himself has spoken as follows: "When I was about fourteen years old, I made application for the position of janitor in a school. "I used to get up at two o'clock, and there were fourteen stoves and coal had to be carried for all them.

They telephoned me and I came. He said, 'There's nothing in the life of years ago I care for now. I can hear the bleachers cheer when I make a hit that wins the game. ' and waved him to the club house, and the great gladiator of the diamond was no more. " CHAPTER V - PLAYING THE NEW GAME It is not necessary to be in a big place to do big things-Billy Sunday. IF Billy Sunday had not been an athlete he would not today be the physical marvel in the pulpit that he is; if he had not been reared in the ranks of the plain people he would not have possessed the vocabulary and insight into life which are essential parts of his equipment; if he had not served a long apprenticeship to toil he would not display his present pitiless industry; if he had not been a cog in the machinery of organized baseball, with wide travel and much experience of men, he would not be able to perfect the amazing organization of Sunday evangelistic campaigns; if he had not been a member and elder of a Presbyterian church he could not have resisted the religious vagaries which lead so many evangelists and immature Christian workers astray; if he had not been trained in three years of Y.

No, I haven't got time now. I'd like to, though, awfully well. "'Don't go, Bill. ' “‘Yes, I remember, but I’ve got to go. "'Say Bill, don't you remember when you tried to play George Washington and the cherry tree and almost cut me down? ' Then the old apple tree seemed to call me and I said: I haven’t time to wait, old apple tree. “‘I want to go back to the orchard, The orchard that used to be mine, The apples are reddening and filling The air with their wine. I want to run on through the pasture And let down the dusty old bars, I want to find you there still waiting, Your eyes like the twin stars.

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