We had never lived so near the car tracks before, and I delighted in the moonlike splendor of the arc lamp just in front of the saloon.

The space illumined by this lamp and enlivened by the passage of many thirsty souls was the favorite playground for Wheeler Street youth.

On our street there was not room to turn around; here the sidewalk spread out wider as it swung around to Shawmut Avenue.
I played with the boys by preference, as in Chelsea.

I learned to cut across the tracks in front of an oncoming car, and it was great fun to see the motorman's angry face turn scared, when he thought I was going to be shaved this time sure.

It was amusing, too, to watch the side door of the saloon, which opened right opposite the grocery store, and see a drunken man put out by the bartender.