Herald and news. [volume] (West Randolph, Vt.) 1878-1943, 1901-03-07
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
+ MICKEY FINN AND !
! THE BUNDLE BEE !
BY Ernest Jarrold. :
BY Ernest JarrOld.



description OF the woods and fields" The
following story is taken from one OF Mr..
Jarrold's books recently published by
Jamieson-Higgins Co, Chicago.
The air of Cooney Island palpitated
with the feryent heat of a day in
July. The hot air radiated up from
the meadows and the dusty road like
heat from furnace. Even the chick.
ems sought the shade OK friendly
trees, and the locusts lazily chanted
their midsummer threnody as Mickey
Finn came down Murray street with a
tattered geography, a worn spelling
book and a thumbed first reader un-
der his arm.
The boys face shone from its re-
cent application of soft soap and wa
ter, so that the freckles stood out
like spots OF brick dust on either side
Of his nose. He had a stone bruise on
one Of his toes, and was forced TO
walk on one heel As he limped along
the roadside, half mile away in the
hazy perspective he could see the lit
tie red schoolhouse in the hollow,
with its monotonous suggestions of:
Can-the-dog-catc Yes-the-
Observation-Disclosures
In fancy he heard the dreary tier
alton Of the schoolroom, and saw the
blank white walls speckled with pa
per ''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 10
allow him to do 50. 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 towards the distasteful
dedication" which his mother forced
upon him. As he limped along the
dusty road, he looked off over the
meadow and saw the naples and
pines in Lindsley'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 coaxing
invitations, which sounded TO him as
follows:
"Come. little Mike. and lie under our
protecting branchesl Here you will
find the tender birch bark and the
Juicy sassafras rootl Upon our
shady hillocks hidden by glossy
green leaves. hide the red winter
green berries awaiting your coming!
The tree toad viii sing his little song
for You, the bubbling spring is dis
filling a sparkling liquor for your
thirsty lips. and the shady coverts OF
our sylvan dells await yoa''
With these enchanting voices in his
ear the temptation to play hockey
was a strong one. The tempter Of
men came to him with the liquid
melody sof birds, the soft wooing OF
luttering leaves. the rustic of the
pine's thin fingers, and the gurgle OF
brooks. And as he stood in the dusty
road and looked down into the hol-
low at the sun beating fiercely upon
the windows of the little red school
house. and realized how sitting was
the air inside, what wonder that he
hesitatedl
Then the reproachful 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 i'm
pelled him onward toward the school.
But he could not shut out of his men
tai sight the picture of the cool par
adise in the wood where the little
lake rippled in the sunlight, and
where, far below, ran the wide reach
es OF the Hudson river as II 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 schoolhouse was for
gotten and he limped eagerly toward
the stone wall TO which chung the RI
otous wild raspberry bushes laden
with fruit. Forgotten was the sore
toe. lost sight of was the long, black
strap hanging on the kitchen wall.
and left behind was the dusty road
and all the suggestions Of work
On arriving at the summit OF the
hin 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 scamper like corralled
sheep into the building. Then the
door was shut and Mickey realized
that his sin was irrevoeable. He
too, when he thought
that he would have to make confess
sion to the priest. But it was too
late TO retrace his steps. He was now
in the narrow path leading to the
woods. He took off his tattered cap
and the cool fingers of the breezes
lifted the hair from his forehead. As
he sat down on the grass a striped
chipmunk stopped, palpitating, on
the stone wall, and little Mikes I'm
gers itched for his bow-gun. After
hiding his books in the stone wall
and covering them with dead leaves