. Syllabus. mongthe puddles, within three yards of her felt a pair of eyes upon him, and he dared notlook up. It rained all that day, and the pool crept nearerthe window. The professor was obliged to comevery near on his wayhome. But this timethere was no face atthe window. Only alonely little textbookupon the sill, flip-flapping its leaves inthe evening the professorsaw that little book hebegan to whistle theold love tune in a low,maneuvering when a manwhistles in that tonesomething more subtlethan tea is then the flyleaf ofthe little book flippe
. Syllabus. mongthe puddles, within three yards of her felt a pair of eyes upon him, and he dared notlook up. It rained all that day, and the pool crept nearerthe window. The professor was obliged to comevery near on his wayhome. But this timethere was no face atthe window. Only alonely little textbookupon the sill, flip-flapping its leaves inthe evening the professorsaw that little book hebegan to whistle theold love tune in a low,maneuvering when a manwhistles in that tonesomething more subtlethan tea is then the flyleaf ofthe little book flippedover, and revealed to the prying professors .-• , W// eye a name—Driisilla i-- ^ ^^ Fair. The whistling He wrote rapidU- under the namestopped. There was dead silence, while theprofessor looked cautiously about him. Then herecklessly laid his own pile of books upon thesill, and, taking out his pencil, he wrote rapidlyunder the name. Meanwhile one of his ownbooks went slip, slip, slipping from its TIIC CROSSCLT—Continued When he had finished, he reviewed the lines andthis is what he read: Drusilla Fair Has golden hair; Ive seen it through the window; How much I care For golden hair A bachelor may not tell, though. Flaf\ went something from the sill to the professor jumped at the sound; but, alas! itwas too late, The Elements of Pedagogy hadfallen in ! There was a sound of approaching footsteps,the opening of a door. Someone entered—butthere was nothing at the window to attract atten-tion save the lonely little book, flip-flapping itsleaves in the evening wind. Several days passed, and so did the was no sign of life at the window. Noteven a book lay on the sill. But something re-markably like a shadow lurked behind the curtain. At last, one evening, Drusilla again made tea-The sun was setting in a flood of splendor. In atthe window floated the melody of an old love hand began to tremble, and her lipstwitched nervously. The
Size: 1213px × 2060px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, booksubjectunivers, bookyear1901
