Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1894-06-14
CHAPTER IL.

Tom Van der Ruyter. 1T NarraganSett
Pier to the Love Syndicate, Limit
cd, at West Point.
Dear Boys: | am here, Arrived last
night. My sister and she are not at
the same hotel, and l have not seen
her yet, as my sister, who Is Il woman
of the world, advised me not to rush
matters. but to meet her accidentally
on the sands. So l shall meet her ac-
cideutally. | can hardly hold in until
IL o'clock. am - early sending you
this bulletin. Us hotel Is full of
girls, They swarm like bees In honey
time. Girls in the big hall, girls on the
lawn playing tennis, girls in the room
off the han looking ut somebody or
others exhibition of fancy work. girls
on the stairs, i'll the elevators. girls
everywhere, pink and blue girls, shirt
waiSted girls, sailorhat girls. | never
knew there We're so many girls.
Idea strikes me. When there are SO
many girls in the world, how can one
have individuality enough to make you
fall in love with her? Why not one
as we'll as another?
The shirt waists, the sailor hats, the
blonde shoes are as like rs guns in Il
rack. Suppose love is Il sort of hac-
terra, only faStens ON nourishing soil,
starves or goes to sleep on others
Heard n doctor say once he had had
the pneumonia hacilli in him for Il
year, but couldn't develop the disease;
his system was not agreeable. In other
words, they couldn't catch ON. It's
the same way with love, my boys.
Your love bacillus flies past Il Who'll.
watering place full of girls TO light on
the one out of thousands favorable to
the breed. Then, if her systems agree
able, it's what the doctors would cali
Il 'lovely case" If she's impervious,
then the poor bacillus is like n Siamese
twin cut in two. But l diGress. II
l haven't something thrilling to write
you tonight, my names not
Tom Van der Ruyter.
Tuesday Night.
I've seen her. At IL / sauntered GU
down TO the beach, one of long file
of girls, young and old mammals, young
and old sray-haired papas (the number
of gray-haired young married men is
appalling), pretty boys, one to dozen
girls, and as proud as baby Lucifers
She was not here. There were fifty
five girls by actual count under the
awning of the pavilion. She was not
among them. Heavens knows how
a.,
knew she wasn't there Catch her
looking like fright. A number more
were sitting on the sand, hidden from
vulgar gaze under large umbrellas.
| wandered adown the sands.
threw casual, though burning, glanccs
under many umbrellas. At last
came TO one surrounded by five men.
Instinctively l knew she was there.
Actually, boys, tremblcd. Then |
pulled myself together and strobe in
front of the umbrella 1t was she!
Did | ever describe her TO you?
Rhapsudical fragments only. Besides,
she's changed. Before, she was pretty.
Now, she's a woman and beautiful,
and more Il woman of the world than
her mother, a nice old lady, with Il
novel, and caps and fabby cheeks.
She always dresses in purple. But /
am getting naked. You don't care
about the mother any way, and I'll
do better with her, having gazed upon
her for nearly solid day They say
1pacG nj 10 IN
begin with that, only / don't know
anything about womans clothes.
All | can say Is that she doesn't
wear sailor hat or shirt waists, but
had on a white, rough thing that my
sister said was serge and tailor-made,
and big white hat lined with scarlet
velvet. And that velvet was Jolly be-
coming TO her dark hair, which curls
iike-like-well, like hair. ! never saw
tendrils or any other of the SMILES
poets and things use to describe their
herone's tresses that looked half as
much like hair as hair itself. 1t hasn't
any perfume, nor has she, either, thank
heaven. ! hate woman who carries
about her IAN enhancing perfume in
dividuaI to herself" There are just
so many perfumes anyhow, and they
all smell alike.
But | digress Her face is little
tanned, but once she threw back her
head and her neck was as white as
ce-cream-vanilla, ! mean. And she's
got all color. Stars and Stripes! She's
got n color. Her nose is straight, but
tits a little. Her mouth is scornful
pink bow. How is that for poetry?
Her eyes are blue-gray, with lashes'-
but, hang ii. can't give you any idea
Of her by describing her outside. It's
her-she, | mean. And she's got a
color. Stars and herself that's out OF
sight Her figure suits herself better
than her face. It's tall and slim, and
carried as II she owned the United
States and didn't care a hang about
1t. Her indifference is-well, that's
a description I'm not equal to. She
never says ten consecutive sentences;
she's too indolent. She even listens
with an absent minded air. And all
n - 4 n IL. Il.