Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 126, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 June 1917 — HONEYMOON DAYS [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

HONEYMOON DAYS

Weddln’ couples are beginnin’ t’ return t’ ther ole stampin’ grounds —t’ th’ scenes o’ ther engagement days, th’ happiest days they’ll ever know agin. They are tired an’ grimy and disillusioned. Some have bathed in th’ crystal waters o’ Cedar Point, some have walked solemn-faced thro’ th’ historic precincts o’ George Washin’ton’s ole home at Mt. Vernon, some have crawled thro’ th’ mud o’ Mammoth Cavb, some have mingled in th’ gayety o’ Atlantic City, while some have returned sun-browned from '"th’ croquet grounds of inland resorts. A hot, sticky w’eddin’ trip in midsummer must be a beautiful experience —all th’ way t’ Nlagary Falls In a yeller day coach, half embedded In egg shells an’ spillin’ baked beans on th’ red plush seats at ever’ lurch o’ th’ train. A groom dressed In a tight flttln’ black forced sale suit covered with cinders an ’a big brown derby hat that

won’t hang anywhere an’ a high oneply La Verdad collar an’ a unmanageable necktie. An’ a bride pinned t’gether in a travelin’ suit o’ blue serge that turns red on th’ shoulder next t’ th’ window an’ a hat o’ her own creation. They .spend th’ first' day at th* Falls among th’ souvenir pustal booths an’ Ice cream cope bazars. Then comes th’ photo studio an’ they git took t’gether settin’ in a aeroplane, th’ groom with a se-gar in his mouth an’ his hat tilted back. Th’ bride places her left hand on bis shoulder (ring showin’) an’ in her other hand she clutches a red goblet bearin’ th’ inscription, “Prom Cecil t’ Myrt. Niagary Falls. 1917.” How happy they are j—she can't see th’ Falls fer her new ring, while hl? breast swells with

a feelln’ o’ security as he notices, hid* den between two ones, a five that hasn’t been broken. Long before they strike th’ state line on th’ return trip th’ groom falls int’ a meditative state an’ begins t” realize fer th’ first time that he’ll have t’ be some contortionist t’ make both ends meet on his weekly wage. He begins t’ feel that he should have held off fer another year—till he had another suit o’ clothes. He wonders ’f his bride is stocked up on clothes an’ if her teeth are plugged. As he enumerates th’ extra added features o’ married life th’ fear that he’ll be reduced t’ stogies seizes him an th’ scenery along th’ route loses its charm. Them th’ ole happy past looms up—when he boarded at home fer nothin’ an’ didn’ have anything on his mind but his hair an’ a little dash o’ violet water. How he used t' lean agin th’ courthouse fence in th’ evenin’ an’ smoke long,

fragrant La Zaras till It wuz - dark enough t’ set on her verandy among th’ sweet smellin’ honeysuckles an’ talk o’ love. How he whistled “Sweet Marie” all th’ way home, an’ how his dear ole mother’s voice called down t’ him not t* strike matches on th’ hall wall paper. How he crept int’ his chamber an’ put his tuberose buttonhole bouquet tenderly between th’ well thumbed pages o’ “Which Loved Him Best.” Then he looks at his bride. .She is fast asleep an’ a half eaten, tvedge o’ custard pie reposes among th* banana peels in her lap. Her little ■feet are cocked up on ther pasteboard suitcase an’ a sweet smile lights up her girlish face. She is drearnin’ o* th’ future. (Copyright, Adams Newspaper Service*

Then Comes th’ Photo Studio an’ They Git Took Together Settin' In a Dummy Airplane, th’ Groom With a Se-gar in His Mouth an’ His Hat Tilted Back.