The Waterbury Democrat., 1932-06-15

and were standing still to have a look at him. A motorboat was pop ping along noisily on the lake. Through the clean, cool air of the afternoon the voices of the other two were distinctly heard.
 That's q good looking fellow" said the man.
 "Yes, we'll get him to play in the tennis tournaments" answered the girl.
 Martin strode on resentfully. He had had quite enough of being a good-looking fellow, and he had no wish to be sized up by arrogant young man in striped pull-Overs, as if he were an ornament on show. Moreover, he had lost all pleasure in his expensive new shoes during these few moments. Apparently here in Frauensee 1t was not the thing to go about in brown box calf. You had to wear stout country boots, or climbing boots, or per- haps in fine weather white buck skin shoes, and at night probably patent-leather pumps. Right. So he, Martin, was wearing something be- twixt and between, q pair of equiv-' ocal antiquities that might pos- sibly do tor every occasion but were correct for none. Indeed his whole wardrobe was composed of single specimens. In the cardboard box there was q white shirt and blue suit in the rucksack a cOlored shirt, his bathing suit and his eisht-pound punching ball. He was wearing his flannel shirt, sweater and knickerbocker. And that was all he had. He had once had din- ner jacket, but moths were now devouring 1t in paWnbroker's shop far away in Vienna. All the same, one needn't lost caste for that. Martin whistled, and took comfort.
 A blue streak of rain was blow ing from windward. At first 1t was over the hills sloping to the vest ern shore, then 1t pricked out little beads of white on the surface of the lake, and next with furry of wind and rain 1t was stinging Mar tins lips and falling on his rain coat. The seats along the promen- ade were deserted, and the few summer visitors beneath the resfau- rant veranda looked bitterly cold in spite of their woolen garments and mackintoshes. Twenty boats dipped wet prows in the water below great black bulging cloud. and al- ready the rain was sweeping on over the town and right up the gorge of the valley and over the mountains, Of which only the dense ly wooded slopes were visible. Then suddenly q patch of gentian blue appear in the sky and was reflect ed in the middle of the lake.
 It was at this moment, just as the clouds broke into q smile. that Martin became conscious some where inside him of two brown eyes opened wide to look at him. The consciousness of this dismayed and also enchanted him. It seemed to him that these brown eyes were within him, within his own gray ones, and yet at the same time look ing at him from outside. Nothing like this had ever occurred to Martin before although he was nearly twenty-six; and 1t vexed him, in spite of the new and sweet sensation that pleased as well as troubled him. Where he had seen those eyes or whether they had any real existence outside of his own eyelids, he could not tell. But then. as he raised one of his own fair eyebrows and wrinkled his fore mead in perplexity, voice sudden ly attached itself to the eyes. The bitter kind tastes best" 1t said.
 Martin waved rain-wet hand in the air, and laughed as he remein- bered. His mouth suddenly water ed, and this experience was not so new and surprising as the other. He had no difficulty in thinking Of bitter things that tasted good --of bitter chocolate, very strong coffee. coffee with plenty of milk and q piece of sugar-candy. of smoked bacon. Yes, he thought very in-. tensely of bacon, and he fingered awhile over the enjoyment of this thought, for the fine aroma Of wood smoke minbled imaginary odors of food, or perhaps they were sacory odors, real odors waited from all these hotels and pensions. For the promenade had now reached the little town with It's houses and people. I'm deyilish hungry, Martin informed himself. as he mentally put a full stop to an imaginary collation. of roast pork with cabbage and dumplings.