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Updated: June 26, 2025
The Catholic priest and the Presbyterian elder were good friends, for his reverence was a jolly Irishman, very proud of his title of the "Protestant Priest." It was whispered that he was not in favour in ecclesiastical circles, but little cared he, for he was in the highest favour with everybody in Algonquin, especially those in need, and the hero of every boy who could wave a lacrosse stick.
"Now, where did I put those nails? O, they're on the kitchen table! Hand them out." Bobby produced the nails, and sat down again to watch the work. "Are you going to finish it today, Hal?" he asked. "No; haven't time. I am going to the commons in about ten minutes. There is a lacrosse match on; but I want to drive these nails first. O, say, Bob, my lacrosse stick is up in my room!
There were business, and professional men, young workmen from near by cities and towns, statesmen and scholars. But of them all, none was such a hero, and none so eagerly awaited, as Harry Armstrong. For only the summer before, Harry had taken a Canadian lacrosse team around the world and had vanquished everything in Europe, Asia and Africa that dared to hold up a stick against them.
He was famed both at home, in Canada, and abroad as a student and an athlete. He pulled a good oar, played a splendid game of football, hockey and lacrosse. He was an all round star, "a born leader of men," as Lieutenant Alex. Sinclair, himself a well known athlete, said to me when he was pleading Taylor's cause for a commission. Both Taylor and Langmuir were very fearless men.
The next day the village played a great game of lacrosse, which was invented by the Indians, and which had been played by them for centuries before the arrival of the white man. In this case the match was on a grand scale, Mohawks and Cayugas against Onondagas and Senecas. The game began about nine o'clock in the morning in a great natural meadow surrounded by forest.
The little sphere had already nestled into Antelope's palm and that fleetest of Wahpetons had thrown down his lacrosse stick and set a determined eye upon the northern goal. Such a speed! He had cleared almost all the opponents' guards there were but two more. These were exceptional runners of the Kaposias.
Only two families lived above us, and over the height to the north was the land of the red people, and small bands of their hunters used occasionally to come trailing down across our meadow on their way to and from LaCrosse, which was their immemorial trading point. Sometimes they walked into our house, always without knocking but then we understood their ways.
We could see the old family pew; we could hear father and mother and the old friends singing that same old hymn, while our youthful minds were likely busied with recollections of a lacrosse match or baseball game that we had seen the day before, or maybe of a visit to the old dam where we had had the finest swim of the season.
"Well, keep near Hal, Bobby. I don't like your crossing the railroad track." Bobby bounded out to the back yard in high glee, waving the lacrosse stick. "Mother says I can go, too," he shouted, jumping down the steps in a manner that made Tiger and Topsy rise up indignantly and move to one side. "O pshaw!" cried his brother, hammering a nail rather viciously.
A game of lacrosse was played by Indian girls on the ice near the present Fort Snelling, one winter day, and the victorious trophies were awarded to Wenonah, sister of the chief, to the discomfiture of Harpstenah, her opponent, an ill-favored woman, neglected by her tribe, and jealous of Wenonah's beauty and popularity.
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