, 1889-08-01
MICKEY PLAYS HOCKEY.

The air Of Cooney Island palpitated
with the fervent heat Of a day in July.
The hot air radiated up from the mead
ows and the dusty road like heat from a
furnace. Even the chickens sought the
shade of friendly trees. and the locus:s
lazily chanted their midsummer thren-
ody as Mickey Finn came down Murray
street with n tattered geography, n worn
spelling book and n thumbed first reader
under his arm.
The boys face shone from its recent
application of soft soap and water, so
that the freckles stood out like spots of
brick lust on either side of his nose. He
had n stone bruise on one of his big toes,
and w~as-forced to walk on one heel. AS
he limped along the roadway, half a
mile away in the hazy perspective he
could see the little red school house in
the hollow, with its monotonous sugges-
tons of: Can the dog catch-the-cat?
Observation-Disclosures"
In fancy he heard the dreary iteration
of the school room, and saw the blank
white walls speckled with paper spit
balls" He was hot and tired and dusty,
and his toe hurt. The truth was, that he
had asked his mother TO permit him to
stay away from school, and she refused
TO allow him to do so. Mrs. Firms at
tention had been pathetically drawn to
the sore toe, and she had said that the
injured member would not hurt him any
more at school than at home. And so
the boy looked cross and felt ugly to-
rn.I, a.. .1.aAFI n-II.--l. ~
which his mother forced upon him. AS
he limped along his disconnected way,
he looked off over the meadow, and saw
the naples and pines in Lindsey's wood
whispering to each other, as they waved
in the breeze which blew fresh and cool
from the Hudson river. These whis-
pers Mickey interpreted as c~oaxing invi-
t%ations. which sounded to him as fol-
lows:
"Come, little Mike. and lie under our
protecting branches! Here you will find
the tender birch bark and the juicy sas-
safras rootl Upon our shady hillocks,
hidden by glossy green leaves, hide the
red wintergrecn berries awaiting your
comingl The tree toad will sing his little
song for you, the ~bubbling spring is dis
tilling n sparkling liquor for your thirsty
lips, and the shady coverts of our sylvan
dells await your
With these enchanting voices in his ear
the temptation to play hockey was a
strong n The tempter of men came
to him with the liquid melody of birds,
the soft wooing of nuttering leaves, the
rustic of the pines thin fingers, and the
gurgle of brooks. And rs he stood
IL, tho l.gfr ,,,l AL I.D1-oI lo.r,. to-.
the hollow at the sun beating f~iercely
upon the windows of the little red school
house, and realized how sitting was the
air inside, what wonder that lie hest
tatedl
Then the r~eproachful face of his mother
rose before him. AS little Mike loved
his mother and feared her rebuke more
than he did her heavy hand, the thought
of her grief impelled him onward to-
ward the school. But he could not shut
out of his mental sight the picture of the
cool paradise in the wood where the
little lake rippled in the sunlight, and
where, far, below, ran the wide reaches
of the Hudson river as it loitered to the
sea. And in this enhancing picture his
mothers face was blotted out as with a
sponge from the slate of his mind; the
school house was forgotten and he limped
eagerly up the hillside toward the stone
wall, to which chung the riotous wild
raspberry bushes laden with fruit.
Forgotten was the sore toe, lost sight of
was he long, black strap hanging on the
kitchen wall, and left behind was the
dusty road and all the suggestions of
work.
- NJ, - ,r.-s,r - fl, rV,,,g,tN % a., LsIl
little Mike turned in his tracks and
looked down upon the school house.
He saw the master come to the door and
ring the bell, and his schoolmates scam
per like corralled sheep into the building.
Then the door was shut and Mickey re-
allied hat his sin was ~irrevocable. He
trembled, too, when he thought that he
would have to make confession of it to
the priest. But it was too late to retrace
his steps. He was now in the narrow
path leading to the wood. He took off
his tattered cap and the cool fingers of
the breeze lifted the hair from his fore
head. AS he sat down on the grass a
striped chipmunk stopped, palpitating,
on the stone wall, and little Mikes fin
ger. itched for his bow gum. After hid
ing his books in the stone wall and COW
ering them with dead leaves he began
picking and eating raspberries until his
bronzed checks were covered with the
juices of the fruit. The scent of clover
blooms and fresh grasses made his nos
trils dilate, and while the birds sang to
him from the trees the nodding butter
cups and daisies shook their heads at
him and seemed to say:
Little boy, you're playing hookeyr"
When Mickey entered the wood he lay