The Lakeland evening telegram. (Lakeland, Fla.) 1911-1922, 1916-05-09

, your slate and left pink. mint hearts
on your desk"
Engraved I love you,'" she as
/ sented. And was there a girl you
made cart wheels in front of all the
way home-all whirling hands and
legs?"
Gee. l wished you'd gone to my
SCHOOL," His eyes were shining de-
lightedly, and Miss Stiles sobered sud
denly.
But were grown-ups now" she
sighed. only sometimes we forget
Wouldn't it be great to slide back
to those kid days, when everything
was what it seemed, when we cried
when we were hurt and laughed when
we were glad, and believed in every
body we knew and everything we were
told?" he asked.
Now smile when I'm hurt and cry
when I'm glad" she said.
"Well?" he challenged. his hands
still thrust deep in his pocket and his
eyes dancing eagerly. You don't
look like girl who would take a
dare"
I'm no 'fraid-cat," she boosted
Il know where there's birch" The
laugh in her eyes fiickered anxiously.
"Oh-o!"
Her little squeal of delight was gen
uine. And we might find some win
tergreens. Tough, old ones, you know,
with red berries. Oh, it's fine to be a
kid"
"Yuh betchyu 'Tain't no fair to
talk like grown-ups, though" he pro-
tested
To think there was a man like this
In that grubbing city beyond! Her
eyes were as childish and blue as the
autumn sky as she protested.
IN beat you to that sumac, there,
little boy" pointing with outstretched
finger. "One, two, three, ready-go"
With that mad scamper, Sarah Stiles
began an afternoon of unalloyed, fool
ish fun that never tagged until she
was homeward bound, loaded with the
gorgeous foliage of the autumn woods.
They paused at a bend in the road,
where cottages below were glimpsed
through the leaves and a sky of molten
gold poured itself into a glittering
river. The laughter curves fell away
from Miss Stiles's lips in a tired, salts
fed sigh.
But it must be good-by," she was
insisting. Miracles cannot bear repe.
tition. It's a rainbow afternoon for
memory-let's not touch it with the
stupid finger of reality and shatter it,
boy. Besides, If fate is eager and
willing"
You're a silly little girl" said the
man softly. You're cruel, too. Haven't
we grown up together?"
Very improperly-in one after
noon," she pointed out. But, don't
you understand? | can't be the little
girl any more. Any way, I'm afraid,
! know-it wouldn't last"
Il can't lure you any more" he said
ruefully. But am sorry. Here" he
drew out a card and rapidly wrote
line upon it. AT least, you'll take
this And if you relent-Tll be wait
ing"
Running lightly, she started down
the road. Then she looked back and
while he watched, with a wistfully re-
gretful smile, she tossed the card into
the wayside bushes.
She had paused scant moment in
the boarding house hall to survey her
tumbled hair when through the cur
tanned door she saw him coming,
fumbling bunch of keys in his hand.
With smothered cry, she fed up to
her own room and waited, peering
breathlessly through a tiny crack.
1t was the same gray figure, with
hands deep in his pockets-the very
whistling man into whose arms she
had almost fallen two hours before
His heavy tread mounted slowly and
sounded in the room overhead, where
the crash of a trunk had driven her to
despair that same day She buried
her head in the cushions, laughing
Historically. Then arising, she sur.
veyed her radiant face In the tiny
mirror.
What dear, sweet, lovely old
thing fate is" she murmured.