OLD FAITHFUL 125 



woods. You sleep in a room with log walls, 

 where the electric juice responds to your touch, 

 hot water flows from the faucet, and a bebuttoned 

 bell boy answers your call. 



You eat in a room that is the last expression of a 

 "lodge in some vast wilderness," where the latest 

 French cookery tempts your appetite, and a gray 

 squirrel leaps on the table and steals the remnant 

 of your muffin, as unafraid as a prepaid boarder. 



The stairways are puncheons, laid flat side up, 

 and the banisters are crooked pine knees for 

 which all the woods of the Park have been 

 searched to make them exactly alike. 



Above the great lobby is a gallery, big enough 

 for a state convention and floored for dancing. 

 Here Chuck and Spot cut out two princesses, 

 organized a dance, ran all the other boys into the 

 woods, and held the field against all-comers. I 

 have never learned the full history of that even- 

 ing, but I imagine it would be worth writing up. 

 About midnight Spot and his princess tired of the 

 dance and retired from the world to the big front 

 piazza. They took a seat just below his mother's 

 window. I am ashamed to say it, but she listened. 



9 



