66 ROUND ABOUT CHICAGO 



and I are left alone. We were children together, 

 she and I, in one of the city's big, square, red- 

 brick schoolhouses, and we are children yet, for 

 a moment, when we meet and clasp hands. 



There is the charm of our childhood's fairy- 

 land in the long, shimmering, dancing, writhing 

 streaks of red and green and white, imprisoned 

 by the black, deserted wharves and huge looming 

 warehouses. 



It is so mysterious, so like the goblin tales of 

 our childhood, that we feel again the lovely cold 

 shivers run up and down our spines, and our 

 hearts beat high with childhood's memories as we 

 stand hand in hand at the prow together, the 

 President and I. 



