A SON OF THE CITY

A Story of Boy Life

by Herman Gastrell Seely

Illustrations by Fred J. Arting

CHICAGO
A. C. McClurg & Co.
Copyright 1917
Published October, 1917
W. F. HALL PRINTING COMPANY, CHICAGO

To My Father
THE COMPANION OF MANY A YOUTHFUL STROLL THROUGH CITY PARK AND SUBURBAN FIELD

"H'ist away," he ordered finally. "I'll shove under when he gets high enough."

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I. In Which Our Hero Goes Fishing
CHAPTER II. In Which He Goes to School
CHAPTER III. He Plays a Trick on the Doctor
CHAPTER IV. In Which a Terrific Battle Is Waged
CHAPTER V. He Composes a Love Missive
CHAPTER VI. In Which We Learn the Secret Code of the "Tigers"
CHAPTER VII. He Goes to a Halloween Party
CHAPTER VIII. Wherein He Resolves to Get Married
CHAPTER IX. He Saves for "Four Rooms Furnished Complete"
CHAPTER X. Concerns Santa Claus Mostly
CHAPTER XI. He Has a Very Happy Christmas
CHAPTER XII. In Which the Path of True Love Does Not Run Smoothly
CHAPTER XIII. He Crushes and Humiliates a Rival
CHAPTER XIV. He Buys Valentines
CHAPTER XV. The Spring Brings Baseball
CHAPTER XVI. More About "The Greatest Game in the World"
CHAPTER XVII. He's "Through With Girls"

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

He imagines himself a hero

"Who shot that rubber band?"

The "Tigers"

"Milk toast!"

A second helping of ice cream.

It was Sid and Louise!

Christmas dreams.

"Washrags, washrags."

"Going to be good?"

Silencing his adversary.

"Shooting the duck."

"Thirty-eight dollars and fifty-three cents."

A SON OF THE CITY

CHAPTER I

IN WHICH OUR HERO GOES FISHING

Startled from a sound sleep, he fumbled blindly beneath the bed that he might throttle the insistent alarm clock before the clamor awakened the other members of the household. Then he lay back and listened breathlessly for parental voices of inquiry as to what he might be doing at the unearthly hour of half-past three on a late September morning.

Far down the railroad embankment which passed the rear of the house, an engine puffed lazily cityward with a load of empty freight cars. Over the elevated tracks a mile to the south, a train rumbled somnolently towards the park terminal, and under the eaves of the house, just above his room, two sparrows squabbled sleepily. Inside, the only audible sounds were the chirpings of a cricket somewhere down the hall, and the furious, muffled pounding of his own little heart.

He glanced from the window near the head of his bed. The air was oppressive with a strange, almost rural quietude. In the east, a faint streak of light brought the tree tops of the park into indistinct relief, and to the north a thin line of smoke floated apathetically from a hotel chimney to show that a light breeze from the west augured favorably for the morning's sport.

Stockings, knickerbockers, and blouse were drawn on with unwonted rapidity. His coat and necktie he left hanging over the back of the chair, disdained as