Rensselaer Republican, Volume 23, Number 45, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 July 1891 — THE BRIDGE POLICEMAN. [ARTICLE]

THE BRIDGE POLICEMAN.

■Jew York World. < I was walking down the promenade x> the New York entrance with Scot;y when we met a bridal couple—an jld chap about fifty-five years old, who had just been * : jined" to a young woman about twenty. They had hold )f hands as thej walked, and a broad jrin of happiness spread over each lace. “Isn’t it singular how foolishly a lewly-married couples will behave?” [ queried of Scotty. “Hush!” he replied. “Itis a new world to them, and they can be. forgiven for it. Don’t you do anything to hurt their feelings.” “Mornin’,” saluted the bridegroom *s we met. “Morning, sir,” replied the officer as he lifted his hat. “Te-he-he! Tumble to the racket, [ s’pose? Can't help it though, can we, Nelly?” “It’s a bridal tour, I take it,” obterved the officer. “You bet! Te-he-he! Bridal toui' with a big Bon the bridal. I’m the happiest old cuss in the State of New York, and Nelly is just the cutest, lovingest little turtle dove ever born. Eh, Birdie? Te-he-he!” “Well, I like to see folks happy,’ said Scotty, as he picked up a lost vest button and added it to the day’s relics. “You have come down to see the bridge. I suppose?” “Yes. This, Birdie, is the great suspension bridge. I told you when we was courtin’ that if we ever got married we’d come here we are!” “How nice!” she replied. “Yes; but it don’t hold a candle to my little roily-polly angel!” he said, as* he put his arm around her and lifted her off her heels. “Don’t, Tom!” she whispered. “Te-he-he! She’s bashful, you see!” he explained to Scotty. “Birdies alius are. She was so scart when we stood up tn git married that she almost fainted away. When I popped the question she ran right out doors and clear down to the cornfield, and it was a hull week afore I knew whether she was going to have me or not. So this is the bridge?” “Yes, sir.” “Why, Tom, how high it is!” whispered the bride. “Of course it is,” he replied, gleefully. “Didn’t I tell ye that ye’d <dt the beat husband in the Mohawk valley and see the biggest, highest bridge in the world, all m one? Ain t ye glad ye said yes when I asked ye? Course ye are. Ye wouldn’t trade

That HaißiMr mm. He is an awful nic* boy. says Ruth Ashmore in The URKes' Home Journal. He may wear a very gorgeous blazer, and he may talk athletics in the afternoon and sentiment at night, but he is off for a vacation. Won't you just, remember that? You are a pretty girl, and a brigh: girl, and he likes to laugh ana ta x vith you, take you out rowing teach you to play tennis, and at r. ght sit on the veranda and tel. you how a man really can love. All of this is delightful. But will you please be good enough to remember that love worth having does not come in a week or a month, and that in his watch-case there may be the face of a girl whom he loves with all his heart, and whom he thinks about every night before"he closes his eyes. You are just part of his vacation; and won’t you be wise enough to make him a part of yours? If, when his vacation is over, he should come to your home, what was merely a summer acquaintance may ripen into a friendship. Well, that’s another thing. But just for the sunshiny time don’t allow yourself to think too much about what the summer young man says or does.