The Princeton union., 1907-08-01

10 anead, he whispered. 'DO that
all you want to. If you'll keep it up
like this awhile, I'll follow with Little
Brown Jug, How I Love Theev It
seems to pay after alp
The welcome strains, however. were
but the prelude to a harsher sound
which interrupted and annihilated
them-the courthouse bell changing out
IL. "All right,", said Joe. 'Its noon,
and I'm across Main street BRIDGE"
He opened his eyes and looked about
him whimsically. Then he shook his
head again.
A lady had just emerged from the
bridge and was coming toward him.
1t would be hard to get at Joe's first
impressions Of her. We can find con-
veyance for only the broadest and
heaviest. Ancient and modern instances
multiply the case Of the sleeper who
dreams out long story in accurate
color and fine detail, a tale of years, in
the opening and shutting Of a door. So
with Joseph in the brief space of the
lady's approach. And with him, as
with the sleeper, it must have been
in fact it was-in his recollections later
a blur Of emotion.
He had little knowledge Of the mil
linery arts, and he needed none to see
the harmony-harmony like that of the
day he had discovered a little while
ago. Her dress and hat and gloves and
parasol showed pale lavender over
tint like that which he had seen over
spreading the western slope. (After-
ward he discovered that the gloves she
wore that day were gray and that her
hat was for the most part Whitley The
charm of fabric and tint belonging to
what she wore was no shame to her,
not being of primal Importance beyond
herself. 1t was but the expression Of
her daintiness and the adjunct Of it..
She was tall, but if Joe could have
spoken or thought Of her as "slender'
he would have been capable Of calling
her lips "red," in which case he would
not have been Joe and would have
been as far from the truth as her lips
were from red or as her supreme deli
cateness was from mere slenderness.
She was to pass him-so he thought
and as she drew nearer his breath
came faster.
Remember! Across Main street
bridge at noonw
Was this the fay Of whom the voice
had warned him? With that, there be-
fell him the mystery Of last night. He
did not remember, but it was as if he
lived again dimly the highest hour Of
happiness in a life a thousand years
ago; perfume and music, roses, night
ingales and plucked harpstrings. Yes,
something wonderful was happening
to him.
She had stopped directly in front Of
him-stopped and stood looking at him
his own to hers. He had long expert
ence of the averted gaze Of women, but
it was not only that. A great shyness
beset him. He had risen and removed
his hat, trying Intellectually not to
clear his throat, his every day sense
urging upon him that she was a stran-
ger in Canaan who had lost her way
the way in Canaan not just now ap-
pealing to his every day sense.
"Can lean r. he stammered,
blushing miserably, meaning to finish
with "direct you," or "show you the
way"
Then he looked at her again and saw
what seemed to him the strangest sight
Of his life. The lady's eyes had filed
with tears-flled and overflled.
'Pll sit here on the log with you,'
;he said. And her voice was the voice
which he had heard saying: "Remem-
ber! Across Main street bridge at
noonv'
"What!' he gasped.
"You don't need to dust it!' she went
on TREMENDOUSLY. And even then he did
not know who she was