The Waterbury Democrat., 1932-06-15


 f In front of the little weather bureau people stood tapping hope fully on the glass of the barome- ter. The patch of blue in the sky had grown larger. The opposite chore of the lake became clearer and drew nearer-with its curv- ing sdege-clad outlines and the droop of its trees over little toy like villas. The promenade open | ed out into square surrounded by white-washed houses. On a tongue of land running out into the lake stood several hotels. From windows lighted up at midday the sound of last seasons music. and whirring electric fans spewed out the heated atmosphere within into the village street.
 That's our square" the boy re- marked. Martin had quite forgotten him, but he was still at his heels. bound apparently to unremitting service by gift of fragment of chocolate. "The square. and the ho- tels. the Big Petermann and the tennis courts"
 The tennis courts were by the edge of the lake, and presented q sorry sight, being more than half under water. Martin shook his head. What sort of weather do you call this, I'd like to know?" he asked, with reproachful glance up at the sky. "It generally rains cats and dogs," replied the boy from below.
 At this moment. and most inex- plicably, the girl came out of the Petermann, stood at the top of the three red sandstone steps, and looked critically at the clouds in the sky. It was the same girl, the one to whom the bitter kind tasted best. The girl with long legs and shapely knees who scarcely q quarted of an hour before had van ished along the promenade in the opposite direction accompanied by an arrogant young man in a pull over! Martin could not help stand ing still in astonishment, and his small. well-shaped ears grew red with sudden rush of blood.
 This time, contracting his fair eyebrows, Martin took q good look at her, and her appearance, though attra ctive, was all the same slightly disappointing. The knees were not set so high above the ground nor turned with So, incomparable neatness as he had supposed. Her figure, tall, well-made, and grace ful as it was, had, not the charm. the repose, and the sure and bal anced boise 1t had had before. The eyes were brown. Yes, they were certainly brown and they were fix ed upon Martin with a wide-open look that was almost surprise. But 1t was not the right look, not the right brown---the brown that Mar tin carried about with him-not that play of smoke-quartz and dark gold in a setting of delicate blue enamel. Martin sighed.
 The girl turned and went down the steps and across the square. There a motorcar was waiting, and in 1t sat a well-dressed elderly man who might be her father. Martins grasp on the cardboard box had ,slackened and allowed 1t to slip downward, but now he pulled him self together. There's a girl for once who's properly sprung from the hips. he thought roughly and in strange confusion of mind. The long Journey. the mountain air and hunger of twenty-two hours Ildu pTOuuCcu 5JSI uiSHi'VFf' '' his head. He whistled a marching tune and forced himself to keep to 1t. And now they could see the red flag flying from the red-painted bathing station.
 That was the other" the It. tie boy remarked, who all this while accompanied Martin Hell. The mysterious remark passed un- noticed.
 Herr Alois Birndl, the proprietor of the swimming and sun-bathing establishment, was standing with his, friend. Eggenhofer. the porter of the Big Petermann. and dis coursing at large. He was leaning his large paunch, tastefully ad- orned, against the table of the porter's. box, and on it were ex- tended the ten bluish red fingers. as thick as thumbs. with which he was adding emphasis to his argu- ment. He was speaking in the Frauensee dialect. a form of speech to which he had been born and bred: at the same time he did not disdain certain refinements of speech due to the yearly influx Of visitors from other parts.
 "The new swimming master.