A TRUANT
I was a great hand at playing hookey--that is, staying away from school
and not telling your parents. I would start for school in the morning,
but instead of going would meet a couple of boys and we would hide our
books until closing-time. If any boy was sent to my home with a note, I
would see that boy and tell him if he went he knew what he would get. He
knew it meant a good punching, and he would not go. I would write a note
so that the boy could take it back to the teacher saying that I was sick
and would be at school when I got better.
I remember how I was found out one time. We met as usual--the
hookey-players, I mean--and started down to the Hackensack River to have
a good day. Little did I know what would happen before the day was
over. One of the boys with us went out beyond his depth and was drowned.
I can still hear his cries and see his face as he sank for the last
lime. We all could swim a little, and we tried our best to save him, but
his time had come.
That wound up his hookey-playing, and you would think it would make me
stop too; but no, I went right along sowing the seed, and planting it
good and deep for the Devil.
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