E-text prepared by Peter Vachuska, Julia Miller, Mary Meehan, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net/c/) Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustrations. See 20708-h.htm or 20708-h.zip: (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/7/0/20708/20708-h/20708-h.htm) or (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/7/0/20708/20708-h.zip) 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 [Illustration: _"H'ist away," he ordered finally. "I'll shove under when he gets high enough."_] CONTENTS I. In Which Our Hero Goes Fishing II. In Which He Goes to School III. He Plays a Trick on the Doctor IV. In Which a Terrific Battle Is Waged V. He Composes a Love Missive VI. In Which We Learn the Secret Code of the "Tigers" VII. He Goes to a Halloween Party VIII. Wherein He Resolves to Get Married IX. He Saves for "Four Rooms Furnished Complete" X. Concerns Santa Claus Mostly XI. He Has a Very Happy Christmas XII. In Which the Path of True Love Does Not Run Smoothly XIII. He Crushes and Humiliates a Rival XIV. He Buys Valentines XV. The Spring Brings Baseball XVI. More About "The Greatest Game in the World" XVII. He's "Through With Girls" 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.