fore seen so much
provincialism all at once. The platform was thick with people rushing to
find their cars at the last minute. All was hurry and excitement and
colour and laughter. The orange of Woodbridge and the olive of Hartley
were everywhere. Each person boldly displayed his colours, whether with
flowers or feathers, and it was clear that earth had few greater
pleasures than this. Then the engine tooted and rang its bell, and with
a convulsive wrench they were off, amid the cheers of everyone.

Tom and his Lily were seated between the Hartley cheering section and
the Woodbridge cheering section, in the very choice seats which Mr.
Whitman naturally commanded and Tom, although he thought boat racing a
much overrated sport and resented its being preferred to baseball, felt
a distinct thrill as they passed out upon the river bank and up to the
starting point. Only the cold unseasonable wind which swept down the
course, riffling the water and chilling every one to the bone, marred
the day.

They arrived at the starting point, and the occupants of the new cars
wrapped what little they had around them. Quite obviously, the race
could not be rowed until the wind died. There was nothing to do but just
sit and wait.

The Hartley cheering section immediately climbed down upon the bank,
with the exception of one young man who was left with his head lolling
over the side of the car next to Tom. Friendly remonstrance had been
futile. He had refused to move and had elected to slumber. "I think he's
sweet," said Lily, gazing over at him. "Tell me, do you have much
trouble getting liquor here?"

"No," said Tom. Already the spell of the day was wearing off.

"I've learned, to my sorrow that you can't be too careful. Such a time
as I had last month! I went out to a luncheon party--May Stephens--you
know her? Well, just before luncheon I was astonished to see cocktails
appear. I didn't think May had any stock, but there she was just the
same, jiggling the shaker up and down. Well, at the first sip I thought
something was funny, but there was nothing to do about it; and then May
gave me a dividend, and although it nearly killed me, I managed to get
it down, and then when we were all through she asked us how we liked it.
Well, I told her I thought it was a little funny, and then she
announced what I knew all along; that she had made it herself. 'I made
it out of spirits of nitre,' she said. 'Did you boil off the ether?'
someone as