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A FEW HOURS IN A FAR-OFF AGE.
75
It must be one o'clock. No one has yet complained of hunger or talked of food—I wonder if these people ever eat!
While the young students are on their way to their respective apartments, the parents exchange a look of affectionate pride. Oh, that I were an artist! I would give my century some delighting pictures from this distant age!
These tender parents and true friends, how fascinating they are! Their brave, reliable, loving eyes speaking perfect ease of spirit and mind of noble endeavour. They are lovely as they step into the soft light from each window during their promenade to and fro, discussing earnestly a matter beyond my understanding.
