Elias thought it exceedingly pleasant thus to feast in the open air, while the sky and river glowed with the reflected splendor of the sunset; and said so to Miss Tillie. She replied that it was simply ideal, that they always did it in good weather, and that it was quite the rage among the residents of Beekman Place. Beekman Place, she went on, was the grandest street in the city, and she was awfully attached to it. She'd lived there most all her life, and all the memories of her childhood were associated with it. She remembered when she used to go fishing, with a thread and a bent pin, off the docks below there, and how scared her mamma used to get, lest she should tumble into the water, and be drowned. She didn't know what she'd do--she knew she'd feel just perfectly fearful, any how--when she had to leave, and dwell elsewhere, as she supposed she would some day. Oh, no, they weren't thinking of moving. She meant when she got married. “Why,” exclaimed her interlocutor, “I didn't know you were engaged.” “Well, I'm _not_ engaged. But I suppose I'll _get_ engaged before I die. All girls do.” But couldn't she persuade her husband to come and live in Beekman Place? Well, that would depend a good deal upon what sort of a man he was. Most men wouldn't want to come so far out of the way. She knew, when she was at college, it used to take her pretty much all day going and coming, and cost a regular fortune in car-fares. College? The Normal College? Yes. Class of '82. Salutatory. Indeed! That was a great honor. “Well, may be it was; but I didn't care a cent for it. I wanted to be Valedictory. I worked hard for it, for four years; and when I didn't get it, you can't imagine how horribly bad I felt.” “Oh, yes; I can understand. It must have been very hard.” “Florence Rosenbaum got it. She, and I, and an American girl named Redwood, had been rivals ever since we were freshmen. Some years one would lead, and some years another. But at the finish, Rosenbaum came in first, and Redwood third, and I second. I'd just as soon have come in last.”--Tillie paused; appeared puzzled; finally demanded, “Why, what you looking so queer about?” “Why, nothing. I didn't know I was looking queer.” “I thought something was choking you, you got so red in the face.” “Been down to the beach this season, Mr. Bach-arach?” broke in Mr. Koch, having reference, presumably, to Coney Island. Elias replied in the negative. “Well, then, I tell you what let's do,” Mr. Koch proceeded, addressing the table at large; “let's make up a party to go down to the beach some afternoon this week, hey?” After a clamorous debate, it was decided that they should dine at the beach on the following Wednesday evening, provided the elements were favorable.