The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1906-09-13

agreeably. He could recall no one he
cared to see. He had no longer an in
eerest in the town or it's people.
He went aimlessly out on to Broad
way in the full flood of a spring morn
ing, breathing the fresh air hungrily.
1t turned his thought to places out Of
the CRIME and clamor of the city; to
woods and fields where he might rest
and feel the stimulus of his new plans.
He felt aloof and sufficient unto him.
self
| He swung on to an open car bound
north, and watched without interest
the early quick-moving workers
thronging south on the street, and
crowding the cars that passed him. At
Forty-second street, he changed to a
Boulevard car that took him to the
Fort Lee ferry at One Hundred and
Twenty-ffth street.
Out on the shining blue river he ex-
panded his lungs to the clean, sweet
| air. Excursion boats, fluttering gay
streamers, worked sturdily up the
stream. Little yachts, in fresh-laun-
dered suits of canvas, darted across
their bows or slanted in their wakes,
looking like white butterflies. The
vivid blue of the sky was fecked with
bits of broken fleece, scurrying like the
yachts below. Across the river was
high-towering bank of green inviting
him over it's summit to the languorous
freshness beyond.
He walked off the boat on the far
| Their side and climbed series of steep
wooden stairways, past a tiny cataract
| that foamed it's way down to the river
| When he reached the top he walked
| through stretch of woods and turned
off to the right, down a cool shaded
road that wound away to the north
through the fresh greens of oak and
| chestnut
When he came to a village with an
electric car changing through it, he
| skirted it's borders, and struck off
through woodland toward the river.
Even the village was too human, too
modern, for his early pagan mood.
| In the woods he felt that curious
thrill of stealth, that impulse to eau
| tious concealment, which survives in
man from the remote days when ene-
mics beset his forest ways. On a
southern hillside he found a dogwood
tree with it's blossomed armament of
white stars. In low, moist places the
| violets had sprung through the thatch
of leaves and were singing their pur-
pie beauties all unhearu. Birds were
nesting and squirrels chartered and
scolded
Under these more obvious signs and
| sounds went the steady undertone of
| life in root and branch and unfurling
leaf provoking, melting, making law
less whomsoever it thrilled.
He came out of the wood on to an
other road that ran not far from the
river, and set off again to the north
along the beaten track
When he came to "wheelman's
rest" he ate many sandwiches and
drank much milk.
The face of the maid that served
him had been no heaven for the souls
of dead flowers. Still she was girl:
and no girl could be wholly without
Importance on such day. So he
| thought the things he would have said
to her if matters had been different.
When he had eaten, he loafed eff
again down the road. Through the
long afternoon he walked and LACED.
turning into strange lanes and by
| roads, resting on grassy banks. and
| looking far up.
When the shadows stretched in the
dusky languor of the spring evening.
he began to take his bearings for the
| return. He heard the hum and clang
of an electric car off through a chest
| nut grove.
The sound disturbed him, bringing
premonitions of the city's unrest He
determined to stay out for the night.
1t was restful-his car would not ar
rive until late the next afternoon
there was no reason why he should
| not He found a little waysida hotel
whose weather-beaten sign was ancient
enough to promise Entertainment for
man and BEAST
"Just what I want he declared.
"1'm both of them-man and beast"
Together they ate tirelessly of young
chickens broiled, and a green salad.
and wonderful pie. with bottle of
claret that had stood back of the dingy
little bar so long that it had attained,
at least as to its label, very fair an
tiquity.
| When the man and the beast had
been appeased they sat out under a
blossomed apple tree and smoked to-
gether in a fine spirit of amity.
At ten o'clock he went in from un-
der the peering little stars and fell
asleep in an ancient four-poster. He
dreamed that he had the world, foot
ball, clasped to his breast, and was
running down the field for a gain of
100 yards. Then, suddenly, in place
of the world, it was Avice Milbrey in
his grasp, struggling frantically to be
free; and instead of behaving like a
gentleman he flung both arms around
her and kissed her despite her strug-