The Leon reporter. (Leon, Iowa) 1887-1930, 1912-04-04

\ .r-. . % : /. i
I "Wait, oh, please wait minute"
she whispered, and tearing of the
card from the flowers. she wrote
on it.:
Uncle John here Must go with him
up Fifth avenue in taxicab. Meet me
in Central Park"
When the page handed that card
to an earnest, happy looking young
man just issuing from the telephone
booths, he stared at it in utter amaze
'ment. It was in Vera's handwriting.
The page had disappeared In the
crush. Herbert glanced at his watch.
He had talked with his college chum,
Rev. Hardy Illingsworth, over the tel
,ephone, and discovered that he could
not be married without license. Mrs.
.Illingsworth was giving sort of East
er reception that afternoon, but she
would be- delighted to take charge of
his bride-elect until he could procure
the license the next day. And now
the bride-elect was gone, gone out
into the mass of humans and vehicles
on crowded Fifth avenue on Easter
day, gone somewhere in taxi with
I Uncle John, and had sent him word to
, meet her at Central Park.
hand, and made for the carriage en-
trance. Taxis were at a premium. He
wandered by inches to the Fifth ave-
nue. side, and after waiting what SEEM
ed several hours, he found foot room
on an auto bus, bound uptown.
Every taxicab he passed, he scanned.
''This is a Riverside bus, isn't it,"
he heard somebody say behind him,
and a chill ran over him. And Vera
had told him to meet her at Central
Park. There were how many square
miles to Central Park?
All about him the sweet Easter
bells were pealing. The warm spring
sunshine flooded all the world, 1t
seemed. And everywhere were f1ow-
,ers, flowers, real ones in almost price
less profusion, and artificial ones hard.
ly less gorgeous, atop young faces,
and old ones, lovely ones and ugly
ones.
, Vera had on a dropping pearl gray
hat, he remembered, with one sweep
ing white plume on it, and mass of
white crushy stuff tackled here and
there over the rest of it. Her dress
was gray also, and there were the vio-
lets. Surely he could tell her among
the multitude by her violets, and her
brown eyes and curly hair. He got
off at Columbus Circle, where the bus
started on its westward course, and
stood on the corner where the police
man would not notice his haggard face
and hungry eyes.
'Vera, you don't seem to be enjoy
ing yourself a bit," said Muriel, as
they were stopped by the traffic po-
liceman at Fifty-eighth street. "You
didn't even look at the Vanderbilt
houses. What's the matter, dearie?"
Vera looked up and smiled wanly.
What if that page had failed to find
Herbert? What if he were searching
for her throughout New York? Sudden
", she caught sight of brand new
pearl gray Fedora hat with a narrow
black band among the throng of hats
of the corner curb. Then happened
for once in the history of the famous
Fifth avenue Easter parade, a sight
rarely witnessed. With a quick cry,
Vera half rose from her seat in Uncle
Johns taxicab, and threw her bridal
bouquet of violets straight at the
pearl Fedora.
"Herebert. Herbert, here 1 ami" she
called, and Herbert responded.
Don't do anything, Uncle john"
Vera gasped, as she leaned back laugh
ing and crying on the cushions. Its
only Herbert. We're clipping, and he
lost me-"
Uncle John had a sense of humor,
and much philosophy. The mounted
policeman was looking their way. Her
bert was at the step Of the taxi, his
face pale, his hands holding tho vio-
let's.
Climb right in," said Uncle John,
cordially. Don't hold up the New
York Easter parade for an elopement.
Climb in. and God bless you both. I
think I'll give away the bride for this,
myself"
And the Easter procession moved