A Messenger Kid stopped to Gaze at a picture of Jess Willard in a window and began to Weep bitterly. A soft-hearted Commuter halted. "Why do you weep?" he asked. "Aw, gee, what chance have I to ever be like him," came back the Tadpole. "What a perverted Ambition. Why don't you strive to be like me? I am a candidate for Director of our new four-hole golf club and I play whist on the train with a man who once lived in the same house with Billy Sunday." So the boy became a caddy and listened to the Poor Nuts who babbled about Tough Lies and Dubbing Approaches and reflected that they were much inferior to his own Dad, who had to Shove Lumber all day while these Superficial Johnnies had money to toss to the Birds. When the Kid reached the age of Sagacity he became a baseball fan. His wife never knew what the fan was talking about but she helped him into the house and mixed his Throat Gargle for him. Then the Fan came to his Ninth inning. She pleaded for one final message. His lips moved. She leaned forward. Fan wanted to know if there was anything in the Morning Papers about the condition of Heine Zimmerman's Knee Cap. Moral: There is a Specific Bacillus for every Classified disease.