When You Were a Boy

by Edwin L. Sabin

“Let’s play hooky this afternoon, and go fishin’!”

“My father won’t let me,” you declare.

“Aw, come on. He’ll never know,” scoffs Snoopie.

But he would, just the same.

The only chance you have is to be sick.

It is over-late to be sick to-day, for there is a ball game after school, and you are to take part. If you are sick this evening, when the sports of the day are finished, your mother will accuse you of having played too hard, and such a notion would turn your attack into a boomerang.

You will be sick in the morning.

Accordingly, with great languidness you flop into your chair at breakfast, and carefully dawdle over your food. You endeavor not to eat, although, as luck would have it, the menu is one of which you are particularly fond. But so much the better.

“Why, John, you aren’t eating! Isn’t the breakfast good?” exclaims mother, instantly noting.

“Yes, ’m.”