TO TAKOMA PARK 39 



from the thicket into the open a bright old moon had the laugh on 

 us, winking through the clouds. ''My stars," said he, nodding to 

 his attendants, "those folks wont get home till morning!" The 

 little boy, ambitious at home to shoot lions, and slay tigers fretted 

 audibly when he realized the distance separating him from home 

 and mother. Doleful voices sang "Where is my wandering boy 

 to-night," and a slighted member of the feminine gender pouted: 

 "How about the wandering girl?'' Somebody abused the never 

 ending stream, calling it the River of doubt and sang "Shall we 

 gather at the River?" Nobody dared breath the word supper 

 lest there be cannibals in the crowd. A fair maid though*, she 

 spied a bear which proved on closer acquaintance to be a man with 

 a big stick. He called himself Moses and was pleased to lead her 

 and a few others out of the wilderness. College yells, war hoops 

 and any kind of human cry sounded good to timid souls, and pocket 

 flashes did their work pointing the way 



You will readily believe the old bridge and the long straight, 

 road looked good to us as we left behind us the forest primeval. 

 Beneath the old moon and glow of the twinkling stars we shook 

 hands and roll was called. Takoma Park, where we were to take 

 the cars, we were informed by a passerby, "was just a piece up the 

 road." We set off briskly but when we had gone what seemed 

 to our tired limbs a couple of miles we ran across a belated caravan 

 and finding we still must cover a mile and a half before reaching 

 Takoma we lost faith in the "piece up the road," and some of our 

 party urged by aching limbs had a strong notion of stopping off 

 at the Takomo Sanatorium for repairs. Never did lights glisten 

 more nor appear more welcome than the bright illumination of 

 Takoma calling us car-ward. After we had boarded the car we 

 were surprised to find everyone looking so well and happy, after 

 our thrilling adventures. Those who thought regretfully of broken 

 engagements for that evening, of Cupid lurking in the cold for 

 somebody who had failed to come home at the apointed hour, 

 said apropos the wanderlust "Never again" — but next day were 

 asking "When's the next hike and who's going to lead?" Soon, 

 John Boyle, I trust you'll furnish us with a similar adventure 

 not quite so long nor strenuous, and we'll prove we are "some hikers 

 yet." 



M. J. Moor 



Washington, D. C. 



