[1] In the gang of which I was a member there was a ritual in the
formation of partnership, an association within the association.
Two boys, fond of each other and desiring to become partners,
would link little fingers, while a third boy acting as a sort of
priest--an elder of the gang--would raise his hand and strike the
link, shouting, "Partners, partners, never break!" This ritual
was a symbol of the unity of the pair, so that they fought for
each other, shared all personal goods (such as candy, pocket
money, etc.,) and were to be loyal and sympathetic throughout
life. Alas, dear partner of my boyhood, most gallant of fighters
and most generous of souls, where are you, and where is our
friendship, now?


For the student of mankind the gang is one of the most
fascinating phenomena. Here the power of tradition, without the
aid of records, is seen. Throughout America, in a mysterious way,
all the boys start spinning tops at a certain season and then
suddenly cease and begin, to play marbles. Without any
standardization of a central type they have the same rules for
their games, call them by the same names and use in their songs
the same rhymes and airs. Every generation of children has the
same jokes and trick games: "Eight and eight are sixteen, stick
your nose in kerosene"--"A dead cat, I one it, you two it, I
three it, you four it, I five it, you six it, I seven it, you
eight it!" The fact is, of course, that there are no generations
as distinct entities; there are always individuals of one age,
and there is a mutual teaching and learning going on at all
times, which is the basis of transmission of tradition. Children
are usually more conservative and greater sticklers for form and