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.

I recollect the first time I went away from home. It happened this way:
The teacher got tired of receiving notes saying I was sick, and she
determined to see for herself--for I had a lady for teacher in that
class--what the trouble was.

One afternoon whom should I see coming in the gate but my teacher, and