Produced by Cathy Maxam, Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net ROUGH-HEWN _BY THE SAME AUTHOR_ THE SQUIRREL-CAGE A MONTESSORI MOTHER MOTHERS AND CHILDREN THE BENT TWIG THE REAL MOTIVE FELLOW CAPTAINS (With SARAH N. CLEGHORN) UNDERSTOOD BETSY HOME FIRES IN FRANCE THE DAY OF GLORY THE BRIMMING CUP ROUGH-HEWN BY DOROTHY CANFIELD "There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will." [Illustration] NEW YORK HARCOURT, BRACE AND COMPANY COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY HARCOURT, BRACE AND COMPANY, INC. PRINTED IN THE U.S.A. CONTENTS PAGE ANY LITTLE BOY 1 CULTURE IN THE AIR 29 NEALE BEGINS TO BE NEALE 85 "TO-DAY SHALL BE THE SAME AS YESTERDAY" 129 AN EDUCATION IN THE HUMANITIES AND THE LIBERAL ARTS 209 BIRTHDAYS IN SEVERAL LANGUAGES 317 THE END OF ALL ROADS 379 _ANY LITTLE BOY_ CHAPTER I In the spring of 1893 Strindberg had just published "A Fool's Confession," D'Annunzio was employing all the multicolored glory of his style to prove "The Triumph of Death"; Hardy was somberly mixing on his palette the twilight grays and blacks and mourning purples of "Jude the Obscure"; Nordau, gnashing his teeth, was bellowing "Decadent" at his contemporaries who smirked a complacent acceptance of the epithet ... and, all unconscious of the futility and sordidness of the world, Neale Crittenden swaggered along Central Avenue, brandishing his shinny stick. It was a new yellow shinny stick, broad and heavy and almost as long as the boy who carried it. Ever since he had seen it in the window of Schwartz's Bazar, his soul had yearned for it. For days he had hoarded his pennies, foregoing ice-cream sodas, shutting his ears to the seductive ding-dong of the waffle-man's cart, and this very afternoon the immense sum of twenty-five cents had been completed and now he owned a genuine boughten stick, varnished and shiny. What couldn't he do with such a club! He beat it on the sidewalk till the flag-stones rang; he swung it around his head. What stupendous long-distance goals he was going to make! How he would dribble the ball through the enemy! Spring had turned the vacant lots into sticky red mud, but Central Avenue was hard if somewhat undulating macadam. It had stone curbs too, that bounced the ball back as if specially designed for side-boundaries by a philanthropic Board of Supervisors. Somewhere along it he was sure to find a game in progress. Yes, there they were in front of Number Two School. Neale broke into a run and coming up breathless plunged into the scrimmage.