Oh, hum! I'll turn from this happy affair now and try to find out what
was going on in this thriving, hustling city. Now you probably think
of a city as a gigantic thing; for, if you go up onto a high hill,
and look around across that vast array of buildings, parks, roads and
distant suburbs, you not only think that it is a gigantic thing, you
_know_ it is. But, _is_ it?
Just stop and think a bit. All such things as bulk, or width, you know
by comparison only; comparison with familiar things. So, just for
fun, go up in an imaginary balloon, about half way to that old Moon,
which has hung aloft from your birth--(and possibly a day or two in
addition)--and look down upon your "gigantic" city. How will it look?
It is a small patch of various colors; but you know that, within that
tiny patch, many thousands of your kind hurry back and forth; railway
trains crawl out to far-away districts; and, if you can pick out a
grain of dust that stands out dimly in a glow of sunlight, you may know
that it is your mansion, your cabin or your hut, according to your
financial status. Now, if that hardly shows up, how about _you_? What
kind of a dot would _you_ form in comparison? You must admit that
your past thoughts as to your own pomposity will shrink just a bit!
All this shows us that could this big World think, it wouldn't know
that such a thing as Man was on it. And Man thinks that his part in all
this unthinkably vast Cosmos is important!! Why, you poor shrimp! if
this old World wants to twitch just a bit and knock down a city or two,
or split up a group of mountains, Man, with all his brain capacity,
can only dash wildly about, dodging falling bricks. No. You wouldn't
show up from that balloon as plainly as an ant, in crawling around our
Capitol building at Washington.
But why all this talk about our own inconspicuosity? It is simply
brought up to accompany Nancy's thoughts as that train shot across
country; for Nancy, until now, had not known anything approaching such
a trip. So this happy, happy trip, back upon which many a woman looks,
with a romantic thrill, was astounding to such a girl. From Branton
Hills to San Francisco; a boat to Honolulu, Manila, Shanghai, Hong
Kong, Colombo, and finally Cairo. Ah! Cairo!! In thinking of it you
naturally bring up two words--"Pyramids" and "Sphinx", words familiar
from school days. Practically from birth, Nancy, along with millions
of folks, had known that famous illustration of a thing half Lion and
half woman; and a mountainous mass of masonry, built for a king's tomb.
So, standing right in front of both, Nancy and Frank got that wondrous
thrill coming from attaining a long, long wish. From Cairo to Italy,
Spain, London, Paris, and that grand Atlantic sail, landing at Boston,
and hustling by fast train (but _how_ slow it did go!!) to Branton
Hills! So, along about Thanksgiving Day, about half of its population
was again at its big railway station, for Nancy was coming back. (And
Frank, too, if anybody should ask you.)
And with that big Municipal Band a-booming and blaring, and the crowd
of our old Organization girls pushing forward, did Branton Hills look
good to Nancy? _And did Nancy look good to Branton Hills?_ _What_
a glorious tan, from days and days on shipboard! And was that old
Atlantic ugly? Ask Frank, poor chap, who, as on that big Pacific, had
found out just what a ship's rail is for! And that stomachs can turn
most amazing flip-flops if an old boat is too frisky!
In just an instant, actual count, Nancy was in Lady Gadsby's arms,
fighting valiantly to hold back a flood of big, happy sobs; and Frank
was busy, grabbing a cloud of hands surging towards him.
Coming back from a long trip is a happy occasion. And it is also mighty
good to put a trunk or a bag down, knowing that it will "stay put" for
a day or two, anyway. That constant packing and unpacking on a long
trip, soon turns into an automatic function; and how Nancy did worry
about what transportation customs in various lands would do to a first
class trunk which has a romantic history, owing to its coming as a
matrimonial gift from a group of loving girls. But now; _ah!!_ Put it
away, and your things around, in familiar disposal.
Long trips do bring lots of fun and information; but a truly long trip
is tiring, both in body and mind.
But Nancy and Frank won't stay with Gadsby long; for, during that trip,
a charming bungalow was built on a lot of Gadsby's, facing City Park;
and Nancy put in many days arranging things in it. Anybody who has had
such joyful work to do, knows how assiduously a young pair would go
about it; for two young robins carrying bits of cotton and string up to
a criss-cross of twigs in a big oak, with constant soft, loving chirps,
"had nothing," according to our popular slang, on Nancy and Frank.
Finally "moving in day" got around, with that customary party, to
which you carry a gift to add to such things as a young husband on
only a small salary can install. And _how_ gifts did pour in!! Rugs,
chairs, small stands, urns, clocks, photos in wall mountings, dainty
scarfs (all handwork by our girls in our Night School), books, lamps,
a "radio" from Station KBH, until, finally, a big truck found an
opportunity in that coming and going throng to back in and unload an
upright piano, all satin ribbon wrappings, with a card:--"From Branton
Hills' Municipal Band."