AN AMERICAN IDYLL

AN AMERICAN IDYLL



CHAPTER I


Such hosts of memories come tumbling in on me. More than fifteen years
ago, on September 3, 1903, I met Carl Parker. He had just returned to
college, two weeks late for the beginning of his Senior year. There was
much concern among his friends, for he had gone on a two months'
hunting-trip into the wilds of Idaho, and had planned to return in time
for college. I met him his first afternoon in Berkeley. He was on the
top of a step-ladder, helping put up an awning for our sorority dance
that evening, uttering his proverbial joyous banter to any one who came
along, be it the man with the cakes, the sedate house-mother, fellow
awning-hangers, or the girls busying about.

Thus he was introduced to me--a Freshman of two weeks. He called down
gayly, "How do you do, young lady?" Within a week we were fast friends,
I looking up to him as a Freshman would to a Senior, and a Senior seven
years older than herself at that. Within a month I remember deciding
that, if ever I became engaged, I would tell Carl Parker before I told
any one else on earth!

After about two months, he called one evening with his pictures of
Idaho. Such a treat as my mountain-loving soul did have! I still have
the map he drew that night, with the trails and camping-places marked.
And I said, innocence itself, "_I'm_ going to Idaho on my honeymoon!"
And he said, "I'm not going to marry till I find a girl who wants to go
to Idaho on her honeymoon!" Then we both laughed.

But the deciding event in his eyes was when we planned our first long
walk in the Berkeley hills for a certain Saturday, November 22, and that
morning it rained. One of the tenets I was brought up on by my father
was that bad weather was _never_ an excuse for postponing anything; so I
took it for granted that we would start on our walk as planned.