From the day
Perspective: The Teenager · Sound
The rhythmic clatter of streetcar wheels against the iron rails nearly drowns out Ma humming "School Days" by Will Cobb and Gus Edwards while she scrubs my collars. My word, that tune is everywhere, echoing from every whistling delivery boy and tinny phonograph until my ears practically ring with those "dear old Golden Rule" lyrics. I narrow my eyes at the morning paper, catching the sharp, ink-scented gossip about Mr. Fish’s libel suits and those wealthy Astor men. The air in the kitchen is thick with the damp, heavy steam of boiling linens, a dull roar that makes me long to bolt outside into the crisp autumn wind.