The Lord knows what we may find, dear lass,
And the Deuce knows what we may do--
But we're back once more on the old trail,
our own trail, the out trail,
We're down, hull down, on the Long Trail--the
trail that is always new!




CHAPTER II


After we decided to get married, and that as soon as ever we could,--I
being a Freshman at the ripe and mature age of, as mentioned, just
eighteen years, he a Senior, with no particular prospects, not even sure
as yet what field he would go into,--we began discussing what we might
do and where we might go. Our main idea was to get as far away from
everybody as we could, and live the very fullest life we could, and at
last we decided on Persia. Why Persia? I cannot recall the steps now
that brought us to that conclusion. But I know that first Christmas I
sent Carl my picture in a frilled high-school graduation frock and a
silk Persian flag tucked behind it, and that flag remained always the
symbol for us that we would never let our lives get stale, never lose
the love of adventure, never "settle down," intellectually at any rate.

Can you see my father's face that sunny March day,--Charter Day it
was,--when we told him we were engaged? (My father being the
conventional, traditional sort who had never let me have a real "caller"