Life — July 31, 1913 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

FAT, ANOTHER INTERNATIONAL MATCH The Realization “NZOU are the kind of girl,” I said, “that I have always wanted to rescue from a_ burning building or carry away from a den of wild ani- mals—or something like that, which involves in- tense suffering and prob- able loss of life.” “Nonsense!” she laughed. “You must get over that. I am really just an ordinary person.” Then, the absurdity of the thing com- ing upon her, she laughed again, so that the music of it was carried over the waters, The boat was lying quietly in the harbor, and all about us was the gleam of other lights. The soft, caressing wind fitfully came and went. “It seems so ridiculous,” she cried, “for you to say a thing like that. Now, if I were the kind of girl that you might read about. a “But you are,” I said gently. “Of course you can talk, and you've trav- cled, and you have exquisite manners and tact, and you never seem em- barrassed; but that doesn’t make any difference with me. Somehow, under- neath it all, I realize that you are only a woman; and you make me feel it— you make me feel it constantly. Can't I do anything?” I added fiercely. Of course, I suppose the moon must have had something to do with my mood; but at that moment she was to me the most deliciously ingenuous person in the whole world. Perhaps it was the sound of the distant guitar that came over the waters—but you know what those moments are! You seem not to be yourself, but to have the strength of a million men, and you just long to have your emotions tested. And, in spite of her raillery and in spite of her laughter, she only made me feel the more so. There she was, the most beautiful creature I knew, sitting on the rail of the yacht under the Japanese lanterns; and I, standing there, leaning against one of the stanchions, looking at her and thinking unutterable things. “If I could only show you,” I murmured. “Oh, to do something! to—" Just then a curious thing happened. Out of the dark there loomed a mass, great and dark; and before we knew it, there was a crash. I learned after- wards that Thompson's big yacht had slipped her anchor chain and had borne down upon us. She went overboard. Although it seems horrible to say so, to be exact, she went heels over head. Did I wait? Not an instant. 1 sprang to the rail and jumped after her, It was only as I was going down —down—under the water, in that frac- tion of an instant of time, that it suddenly flashed upon me that I could not swim—at least I could not swim However, what did that matter? I found myself struggling in the water. I gasped. “Keep quiet!” shouted a voice. It was her voice. She held me up. I felt her strong arms around me. I became very quiet. Someone threw a rope. She caught it. We were saved. eee very well, Midnight. The soft wind came and went. The lights flashed about us. In dry clothes, once more we sat side by side. Her hand stole into mine. “Dearest,” she whispered, “ will you forgive me for laughing at what you said? Because now I understand at last. You were the real hero, you know, dear. You had the courage, the devotion. And what does it matter that you couldn't swim?” BASEBALL IDIOM “HUGGING THE BAG” comicbooks.com