The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1910-02-09

THEY SLEPT. HOW TIRED THEY WE'RE! of the avenue to the eager throng in Regengetz circus, swelling and grow ing louder as the news came that the prince had ridden forth from the gates. Glad voices cried out tidings to those in the back ground. The prince was coming!
 Bonny. adorable Prince Robin!
 On came the splendid phalanx of guardsmen, followed by rigid infantry men in measured tread. The great coach of gold, with it's half score of horses, rolled somberly beneath na- lures canopy of green, surrounded on all sides by proud members of the royal guard. Two carriages from the royal stables preceded the princes coach. In the first were the Duke of Perse and three fellow members of the cabinet. The second contained Baron Dangloss and General Braze.
 The curtains in house at the cor ner of the square parted gently. A hawk faced old man peered out upon the joyous crowd. His black eyes swept the scene. A grim smile crept into his face. He dropped the cur tains and walked away from she win. dow, tossing a cigarette into a grate on the opposite side of the room. Then he looked at his watch.
 .
 The man who stood in the middle of the freight car looking down in wonder at the fugitives was tall vagabond of the most picturesque type. No raga- muffin was ever so tattered and torn as this rakish individual. His clothes barely hung together on his lank frame.
 Long, thin lips curled into smile of delicious regard. His sides shook with the quiet chuckle of understanding. He was thinking of other days and nights and of many maids in faroff lands and of countless journeys in which he, too, had had fair and gentle company-short journeys, yes, but not to be forgotten.
 He lighted the stub of tallow can- dle. An, how envied this great, sleep ing wayfarer! How beautiful his mis- tress! How fortunate the lover! They slept. How tired they were! Whence had they come?
 Why should he stay here to spoil their waking hour? No. He would surrender his apartment to them.
 Softly he tiptoed to his own corner of the car. He gathered up his be- longings-an ancient violin case, a stout walking stick, goodly sized pack done up in gaudy cloth, a we'll worn pair of sandals with long, frayed lacings. As gently he stole back to the door. He tossed kiss to the sleeping girl, his dark gypsy face aglow with admiration and mischief, and was about to blow out the light of his candle. Then he changed his mind.
 With determined shake of his head and a new fash of the eye, he calmly seated himself and began to open his ragged pack.
 At last his small store of food lay exposed. Without hesitation he divid- ed the pieces of smoked venison, giv- ing one part to himself, two to the sleepers, then the millers bread and the cheese and the bag of dates he had bought the day before
 Again he blew a kiss to the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Snuffing his candle, he dropped to the ground and closed the door against all spying, un- civil eyes.
 Daybreak found him at the wharf gates.
 Coming to an empty flat car direct from the quarries, he resolutely seated himself upon it's edge and, with amia- ble resignation, set about devouring his early meal, all the while casting longing, almost appealing, glances to- ward the next car but one. Busy lit tie switch engines began chugging