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The Birch-Swinger at Bread Loaf

`I was advised to allow Robert's team to win.' A.B. Guthrie, captain of the opposing nine.

It's not as though he didn't play so well; for his years he moved right sma't around the bases. No, it wasn't that so much. 'Twas how he'd demonstrate his farmer fists two inches from the wicked umpire's chin.

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His teammates were all middle-aged or more and all, like him, loved well-chosen words. To them it was a pleasant way to spend a bright New England morning out of doors.

Robert assumed a more determined stance. Bread Loaf raised a startled brow to hear him roar with North of Boston eloquence, ``Something there is that doesn't love an ump!'' Which weren't quite, quite the words he chose.

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