THE STEADFAST HEART
“I—I’m goin’ to learn. I got to.”
The boy who had first spoken turned to his fellows. “We kin use him out in right field. He won’t git many flies there.”
This seemed satisfactory, and Angus was made a member of the team which, after much argument, was named the “White Wings,” and the athletes sought a field to commence practice.
Then, for the first time in his life, Angus Burke played—played with other boys as an equal; was addressed by them familiarly, carelessly. He began dimly to understand the meaning of the word “play,” and, unaccustomed as he was, phlegmatic as he was, he was lifted out of himself by the exhilaration of it. Perhaps he was not as noisy as the rest, for it was his nature to be silent. Clumsy he was and without skill, but he went at the thing doggedly, intensely. It was clear to everybody he was doing the best he could, “tryin’ every minnit,” as they said, and they were pleased with him….
That night he wrote Dave Wilkins:
“I went to school. I was not afraid of anybody. Not of the teacher. Nobody called me anything. It is all right for me to be there. I played ball. I couldn’t play good. The boys called me Feet because I fell down. I didn’t care because they called me Feet. I liked it, kind of. I would like it here if you was here, and Jake and Bishwhang. Tell them I showed the watch. Nobody but me had a watch.”
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