“I have seen the school boys playing it on the ice at home.”
“That’s not real hockey,” said Uncle looking at me over his glasses, with his dear, kindly twinkle. “You had better accept Jack’s invitation; it will be a grand sight. There’ll be thousands there and the game should be one of the best of the season.”
“The first of the Champion series,” said Mr. Bang.
“Do go, Elsie, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it,” persuaded Mumsie.
“There’ll be thousands there?” I asked weakly.
“There will be three or four thousand,” replied Uncle.
“Anything up to ten thousand,” Mr. Bang added.
I agreed to go.
Much shouting seemed to make the great rink shake, as we entered; shout after shout went up. The giant building seemed to vibrate with noise.
Mr. Bang grasped my arm and struggled through the swaying mass of people crowding the entrances; and when I got inside I found myself beneath a great vaulted roof ribbed by arches bearing a myriad of electric lights.