The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1906-03-01
"REMINISCENCES

l
/ Emerson, tired of the nOnsensical
chatter of the summer girls at The
Pines, made his way down to the
beach where he could watch the incom-
| ing tide and be soothed by old Fundys
deep stentorian roar.
In the distance the Union Jack waved
| listlessly in the summer breeze. A
quiet somnolence prevailed everywhere
! H watched the sea gulls as they flew
hither and thither, sometimes alighting,
| for an instant, on bit of rock or sea
weed; then up and away, soaring high
er and higher, in the heavens until they
were mere specks in the horizon.
! The longer he watched them the
more ardently he wished he were gull
or bird of prey SO that when weary
Of this, existence he could HE him
away to other scenes.
He was deep in reverie when some
thing dropped in his lap.
! A pink sunshade.
'Oh, beg your pardon, how careless
of me"
He looked up. ,94 A.. :4N~43
/ Edith"
Harold"
simultaneously they uttered the
words, and he sprang to grasp her out
stretched hand.
What in the world are you doing
here?" she said.
"a truce from business cares" he re-
Piled; land your
ooh, I'm with party of New York
| friends. We returned from abroad last
month only to learn that we were to
be entertained by one of our party III
Montreal From thence we came to
bly, ensconced at the Lour Lodge"
You haven't changed a bit" he
said, as he gave her a sweeping glance
Same sparkling black eyes, same wavy
! brown hair that curls in the same pro-
volzing way over your left ear
| She smiled.
and where have you been since L
! saw you last?" he continued.
/ He watched her as she deity opened
her sunshade and arranged it in front
Of them to shut out the glaring sun,
and his mind wandered back to three
years before when he had first met her
| 1T Bar Harbor, when every corner and
| rrevice of his heart was filled with her
/ image.
There was a delightful summer spent
in her company. Automobile rides,
] boating, bathing and moonlight strdls
where they vowed undying devotion.
Then he returned to college, and she
to her studies abroad, and somehow
they drifted apart.
He awoke with start to realize that
he had not heard word of her con-
versation.
And what do you think, Harold?"
/, she was saying. Il met Florence Eg-
/ gleston in Paris at the opera. We only
talked Tor moment. She was with
some Frenchman, an inferior looking
| person. with an unpronounceable name.
l didn't have time to speak with her
very long, and Mrs. De Laci, my hos
tess, says it is just as well, for she has
| decidedly questionable reputation IN
| Europe. You know, We used to think
her quite pretty, but mercy! hasn't
she faded? Really she looked extreme
| ly vulgar and oyerdressed.
"Then | met the Taylors and Con-
RAIDS in Rome, and many other of our
old friends on the continent.
How is it with you, Harold? What
have you been doing? Do you ever
see any of the old crowd?"
/ 'OccasionalIy' he answered gazing
across the Bay of Fundy. Il ran into
| Clyde Fessendon the other day at Sher-
rvs, and I hardly knew him, he looked
so seedy. Why, he's physical wreck,
| and looked more like walking ghost
| than a human being. | hadn't seen
him for three years, SO | suppose the
/ change struck me more fOrcibly. He
talked absent-mindedly about the cur
| rent events, and after he went out
asked Will Travers, who happened to
! be with me, what allied him. He said:
why, didn't you know he'd failed in
business? He married one of the pop
ular debutantes last year. Can't think
! of her name now, but she's terrible
spendthrift, they say. Took about all
he made to keep her in toys and swell
her around, so he went through
Poor fellow" she said That's the
| penalty l suppose you are married.
| Harold?'
ooh, yes, some time ago."
ITO whom, may | ask?"
Florence Eggleston.'
/ They we're silent.