Judge — July 6, 1918 — page 6: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

he scanned the premises: he clutched the driver's arm “Lord! Look at that string clectric light posts!” he exclaimed “Turn in! This is where we stop.” A yawning clerk was just taking his place at the desk as they en- tered; a trim maid, duster bearin, whisked out of sight. Peters glanced at his watch. The hands pointed to five minutes after twelve. Speaking of the eating line, he remarked lightly, “you may fire when ready, Gridle: “Early breakfast will be served in the small dining room at twelve- thirty, sir,’ said the clerk courte- ously. Nettie gave a start. “I beg your pardon! Break—" she began; but Peters was impolite enough to interrupt her. Eawty Breaweast Witt rood Twetve-tiiety,” Sato “Breakfast sounds might to me. Let's let it go at that.’ It proved to be a very good breakfast, but undeni- ably a Breakfast, just as the next meal, at 6:30 was luncheon, and so officially designated. The Peterses had noted that 4:30 appeared to be the official bathing hour. Also they remarked that though the place was fairly ablaze with electric lights after nightfall, the guests mostly vanished in their rooms. Nettie came to Peters as he was smoking contented- ly on the porch—it was then 10:15. “Would you believe it!” she whispered. “Every- body’s napping—our maid just told me. And, by the way, she dropped a friendly hint that we're ex- pected to dress for dinner—at 1 A. M.!" Peters nodded. “Sure he said. “‘Good idea.” Nettie looked her perplex- ity. “But—but your needed rest, dear—?” Peters grinned. “Hanged if I don’t believe I’m beginning to get it. Suddenly, he caught Nettie’s arm. “Look here, girl! I was talking to the proprietor just now and he’s got an idea, he has. For busy city folks this rural rest cure notion—got to be worked ~er—er—diplomatically. No violent changes, you know ycholos “] tested “Well, it hits me as a mighty good hunch,” Peters don’t,” Nettie pro- insisted. . . . That t A. M. dinner was e vee cellent. Nettie couldn't under- p,aen by RB. FuLter stand it at all, but she saw Tose: Dacoiters after all.” to like the plan. Sodid Peters, for m and that reconciled Nettie. The hop that started at 2 A. M. gave her a shock, but it was a very mild shock “It's this w. Peters ex- plained. “Late birds, all these folks. Don’t want to disturb ‘em unnecessarily —that’s the theory. Way to get real rest. And say! They've got a rest room, in one of the wings—meant to soothe tired city nerves. Let’s take a look at it But Nettie preferred to take a look at a new step, then being exemplified on the floor. “Well, you'll know where to find me,” quoth Peters and strolled off. It may have been half an hour before Nettie hunted him up. A directing sign or two helped her. The rest room was down a long corridor, at the very end, in fact. A curious mingling of sounds also served as guide. he peered into the room and saw a fat gentleman, deep in an easy chair. On the wall just beyond him an automobile horn honked loudly at inter- vals. Every time it sounded a placard showed beside it. “You don’t have to jump!” read the card; and the fat man blissfully smiled. Half a dozen feet away another man, in a still deeper and more luxurious chair, rapturously surveyed a line of loops of leather. “These are straps,” said an accompanying legend, ‘but you don’t have to be a straphanger.” Over in a corner an ingenious device cleverly imitated a locomotive whistle—and a loud- voiced talking machine made proclamation: “To thunder with all trains! You don’t have to catch em!” \ boy in buttons moved about the room, paging “* Mister vane oy Taintyou.” Then the discord 4-4 of two jarring telephone bells drew Nettie’s attention. Tele- phones, as she knew, were the bane of Peters’s existence. It bewildered her, therefore, to behold him in a chair drawn close to the instruments. His figure was relaxed, his hands were folded peacefully, his head drooped forward. Nettie stole up to him. She touched his shoulder. He looked up, sleepily Again both telephones rang. Nettie turned to them impatiently—and saw another placard. “Let ‘em ring their heads off; you don’t have to answer 'em,” it said. Nettie bent over Peter: His eyes were closing again; the smile of a great content was on his face. “Tell you this—this vaca- tion business is all psy—psycho -psycholog—” he murmured, and dropped asleep in the middle of the word. anit f Navy Biousrs that the other guests seemed — «1 believe the army would have been more suitable comicbooks.com