THE HESPEKIAN
It Was a Dream.
I thought I saw you come along the garden path
With dewy purple pansies in her hand,
I thought you wore a dress of misty white, and by
The garden gate I thought I saw you stand,
It was a dream.
I thought I saw the shining of your golden hair,
I thought I felt your lips against my cheek,
I thought I felt the pressure of your dainty hand,
I thought I heard you whisperingly speak,
It was a dream.
I thought I heard you sing a long forgotten song
That told me you and I should never part,
I thought I heard you whisper that you loved me,
and
That I alone possessed your loving heart,
It was a dream.
For lo! the mists came down between us, you and I,
And you are hid beneath the grass-grown sod,
While I grope blindly on amidst the clouds and
dark;
I thought you were a gift to me from God,
It was a dream.
William Reed Dunroy.
The Two "P's."
"The darkest is Poindextor, the other is
Parker. If you want to see some interfer
ence just wait till they give Pointdoxter the
ball.1' That was as much as a new student
at Milford was ever told about the two "P's."
One could observe the rest.
If MilfoFd was hard pushed and needed a
few yards badly in a foot-ball game, Poin
doxter was given the ball; and Parker was
always-tho last blocker to go down. No
one else could block for Poindoxter equal
to Parker; and Poindoxter carried the ball
oftener than any other follow. Even the
most confident freshman would acknowledge
that Milford could not have held the cup for
three consecutive years, if it had not been
for Pointdoxter and Parker.
They were always together. At least, no
one remembered having seen one without the
other in easy call; and they did not talk
much to the other boys, for the other boys
talked to them. They roomed together, ate
at the same table, carried the same studies,
and each played half-back on tho foot-ball
team. They had occupied tho same room for
the four school years, and when freshmen,
had pasted two largo intertwined "P's" on the
door, scribbling underneath a poetic curse on
him who dared remove the letters.
It was seldom that the full names were
spoken; but once in a while a boy would say
something about "Poindoxter and Parker."
Probably no one knew why he did not say
"Parker and Poindoxter;" but no one did.
If a brilliant play was made in a foot-ball
game, it was Poindoxter who was cheered
first. Parker would have been puzzled if
it had been different; and that was the way
it always had been. Poindoxter always
took praises so easily, while Parker looked
so puzzled when the boys gave him the
"long cheer" that few made more than one
attempt to compliment him.
At the graduating exercises, Pointdoxter
was class orator, and Parker was class poet
though it was an open secret that Parker
could have been class orator if he had so
desired. Poindoxter was highly compli
mented on his oration; but Parker's verses
were so quiet and simple that no one said
much about them, although they wore not
easily forgotten.
Poindoxter went into his father's office on
Wall street, while Parker, by a stroke of
good fortune, he thought, managed to get
on as night reporter for a big New York
daily. For several years they saw each
other very often; and their friendship bade
fair to last a life-time.
Finally, Poindexter's father died; and tho
financial world began soon after to speak of
"Young Poindoxter. " Parker had been
working hard, and about this time was givon
tho literary page of his paper to edit.
After that, they saw each other loss often;
though occasionolly, Parker's column would
contain some verses or a short sketch that
would remind Poindoxter of something,
and ho would say, half aloud: "Parker
always could ' write stuff about little things
that would make a follow want to cry, well,
I must slip 'round and see tho old boy a
m
