"First you know you'll want to go off and
live the simple life under a palm tree, with bananas for lunch and
oranges for dinner. And when your--er--your hero--we'll say, comes riding
on that milk-white steed I so despise, you'll be so thin that he won't
know you."
"Thank you!" returned her sister. "But a _svelte_ figure is much to be
desired these days."
"Not that you're getting stout!" declared Alice. "Really it is I who
ought to diet on bananas and--"
"Orange blossoms," finished Paul.
"Thanks," and she bowed gracefully to him.
"Well, Paul, where is it to be--you're the guide?" asked Russ, as they
emerged on King street. "Where's your map?"
"I have it. What do you say we go out to the old city gates, and then to
Fort Marion?"
"Wherever you say," agreed Alice. "It is all new to us."
They soon reached the north bend of St. George street and stood before
the old city gates. These once formed part of the northerly line of
defence of the ancient city.
"Built in 1743," declaimed Alice, as she read from the bronze tablet set
in the masonry by the D.A.R. "My, how long ago that seems; doesn't it?"
"A mere trifle!" replied Russ, airily. "Get together there, and I'll snap
you," he invited. "If you think that's old we'll go to the Fountain of
Youth a little later, and renew our youngness.
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