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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 9, 1922)
i : s__=__== “I am a ‘honcry’.member of a club—and now I'm approach ing the exciting part of my letter. It is called Cove's Club and hai rules that forbid my swearing, talking back, smoking, lying, stealing bird’s eggs, hurting dumb animals, ana that make me fight (and lick) every enemy to the club (which a'as, seem to bo mostly mothers) k>i! pirates and defend my country. Isn’t that heaveilly? It meets whenever Liz Hopworth has to clean tho ‘mectin’ house’ which is always on Mondays and after there’s a social. And to attend the meet ings you have to slide down 30 feet of bank to what is known around here as Falling Water Cove, though I don't Rlieve wa ter eM-v fell there. Anyway, it is a historic spot for reasons be sides the club—one is that it was from there Robert Leavitt and the women of the household, with little Justine, escaped when Freedom was attacked by the In dians and it was there, one dark night, Ethan Allen himself land ed in a boat for a secret confer ence with Jacob Leavitt before an attack ui)OM the Yorkers. (90 plus in American History). J .“Ami the members yf t|ie club *ro (please read slowly) me, Davy Hopworth, Hick Suead, Jim Davis, Kirk Brown and Peter Hyde—the hired man. “Peter Hyde and I are the ’honcry’ members.’’ i, “I can hear you, Claire. ‘That is jusf like you, Nancy Leavitt— swear you’re going to do one thing and doing another. Yes, darling, it is like me, I’ll admit I But this time it’s different. I really did intend to bo very haughty ami distant each time I law the man but—I couldn’t Could you, if you had just been running a race which included vaulting a stone wall? I bad to run the race to win Davy’s re spect and l had to jump the wall —well, to show l could! And of course I never dreamed the creat ure was anywhere around. But he sprang up from the earth{ I believe, and was there at the fin ish. And could you look haugh ty with every hair pin dropping out of your head? And, anyway, afterwards, lie cxplaiue'd something that has mado everything different, but that comes later in my story. “Today It rained for the first time sineo I’ve been in Nortli llero. *A sort of steady pitter patter, not the kind of a down pour that makes you bug shelter, but a splashy sort you long to run out 'in with your face turned up. All, morning long I sat with the aunts (Aunt M illy was so'dis appointed when she saw the rain that 1 brought her down to the hollyhock porch and made her all comfy (hero) ami I simply couldn’t stand it all afternoon so, after lunch, I stole away. Now Happy House is divided (thank goodness) into two parts, so if the aunts are on one side it is easy to slip out of the other. I put on my slicker and cap and slipped away. I frisked around in the ..ruin * drops for awhile, then l started toward the orchard to see if my waterproof box was water ,proof. And as I walked down the path I heard the sound of hammering from the direc tion of my nest. (Alia,’ said f, ’I will surprise nice Mr. Webb at his work I’ So £ crept up on tiptoe. And, oh, Glaire, it wasn’t Mr. Webb at all—it was Peter Hyde! There ho was with a hammer and a saw and some nails in a funny apron he hail tied around ihim working away with tho ,raiu spattering through the „ leaves right‘into his face. “I was so surprised I thought I’d run badk, but just at that moment .,he saw me. Anil of course, the way £ always do when I shoulllu’t, I began to laugh. And he laughed, too, though be Was embarrassed. “I am sure heididn’t want me to find'out that he had made the aeat. Hut for a hired man he met tho situation with ease. He eitnply asked jne to stand there while he drove* one more nail; then he said his work would be complete. When he’d finished lie held out his hand and invited <tue to climb into ilie nest. ^11 jthis with the rain spattering on msl 0f course I had to tell him that it was perfectly lovely and had been such a jolly surprise .mil that I had thought Webb had £uadc it. And now comes the ruilr^ftaft. He explained in a «ort Ox sheepish way that he 3 thought I was a little girl! Jona than had told him that Miss Sa j brina's little niece was coming to Happy House. When be caught a glimpse of me in the stage (he dared to say this) he thought I looked like a -‘jolly sort of a kid.’ Then that very afternoon ho saw me turn a handspring in the orchard—and climb the tree! lie said he got to thinking what a sort of dull place Happy House would be for any youngster, and that it would be fun for him to do some little thing to make it jollied for her. He admitted, to use his own words, that he was flabbergasted to find that I wasn’t a kid after all 1 I’m glad, in a ‘close-up* I do look my years 1 “But can’t you see that that explains everything and that he wasn’t impertinent, after all? “Of course, living in cities all my life, I’ve always had an im pression that hired men were just big, clumsy, dirty looking creatures who ate with knives and ulways smelled horsey. This Peter Hyde isn’t that way at all. He’s tanned copper color but his face and hands look clean and except for his clothes, he doesn’t look murh different from any one else. And now that he knows I am quite grown up (at least in years) he treats me very nicely. “We’re going to do all sorts of nice things for Davy Hop worth, who is a very nice, bright youngster, but, just because lie’s a Ilopworth, the other boys get punished for playing with him and that makes both Peter Hyde and me indignant. “Isn’t the world funny, Claire, how the sins of the fathers and the grandfathers are visited upon the children—at least in places like this? Of course my beloved Finnegans are too busy just keep ing the present generation going, to think much about the past, and the world they live iu rushes too fast to stop to think that Timmuy Finnegan, maybe’s, go ing to rob a bank because his great-great-grandfather, over iu County Cork, ran off with a pig. “It is too late in the evening to philosophize, and I mustn’t let my wiek burn too low or Aunt Sabrina will kuow I’m using the midnight oil. Don’t be cross, dear Claire, if you don’t hear from me every duy; although you might suppose that up here I’d have a great deal of leisure time, somehow each day seems to bring Boinetliiug unexpected. And as I said on page 2 of this volumin ous letter, 1 am growing fond of Happy House and there is a sort of fascination about everything here. Dear Anne, with her noble dreams, never longed to bring about the reforms that I do! One is to throw out the dreadful waxed flowers and peacock feathers and old grasses from Happy House and fill the vases with fresh flowers. Another is to sweep through the whole blessed village and open every blind and let in today! “a...i ...l.... r'... _ with my longing to make the whole world better, I ’in suddenly reminded that I’m just a little next-to-uothing that can’t even remember to act grown up, mas querading in our Anne's shoes and daring to find flaws in .Miss Sabrina Leavitt with all the noble heritage of Leavitt tradi tion flowing in her veins. “Good night, littlest pal, I wish l could be with you long enough for a good, long gossip. But, by and by—” CHAPTER XI. Moonshine and Fairies. “Good evening, yellow Butter cups Good evening, daisies white. Tell me, have you met the Moon Queen On this pretty night?” The little singer made a sweep ing courtesy. “How d’you do, Miss Butter cup? Do come here now and meet Mrs. Moon!” With a ges ture of exaggerated elegance she led an imaginary Buttercup out to a pool of sHver where the bright moonlight slanted through the branches of an apple tree. “Now, everybody, bow to Mrs. Moon,” and the fairy hostess bent to the ground. Then sho snapped her fingers. “On with the music,” she cried. Like a spirit she danced off over the grass, now scarcely more than a shadow among the shadows, now full in the moolight, bending, swaying, leaping, arms out stretched, face lifted. But the frolic of tlie fairies in the moonlight came to a sad end, for a human hand reached out from behind a tree-trunk and caught the make believe hostess of Mrs. Moon by one thin arm. “Lemme go!” cried the child, shrilly. Nancy, awakened by the moon light streaming across the rose cabbages of her carpeting, had been lured out into the night. Halting at the raspberry patch she had heard the little singer. Cautiously, lest indeed she dis turb fairies at their revels she had crept into the orchard. Prom a hiding place she had watched the child’s mad dance. ‘ ‘ Sh-h! I am the Moon Queen! Let me dance with you!” Re leasing the little wriggling body Nancy threw off her slippers. “Come!” Waving her hand she danced down through the apple trees, singing: In their dress of yellow gold, In their petals white, I can see the fairy folk (lathered here tonight! From the shadow the child watched her, sullenly, suspicious ly. But with her loosened hair falling down over her pink dress ing gown. Nancy herself looked an eerie little sprite; in a moment tho child’s alarm vanished. Of course she knew that this must be Miss Sabriny Leavitt’s niece, but it was fun, anyway, to pre tend that she was the Moon Queen! And she must be very, very nice not to have “chased” her at once! And she might stop dancing, too, any moment! So out she ran to join Nancy, with hands outstretched, and together they capered and danced around among the old trees until, quite out of breath, Nancy fell upon the soft grass. “Oh, goodness me, what fun! No\v come here, Miss Fairy, and tell mo who you are? Are you a fairy come from the Village of Tall Grass in yonder field?” The child, completely won, dropped at Nancy’s feet. “I’m Nonie Ilopworth.” “Oh-h!” Nancy was genuine l.. a v _ h. *,T V J V/ V* T J I] sister ? ’1 The child nodded. “Yep”. She regarded Nancy closely. “You’re different, aren’t you?” Nancy caught her meaning. “Yes, I’m different—at least, I’m not exactly like-~Jl “Miss Sabriny or—or B’lindy. She’d have chased me! That’s why I come here to play at night. Anyway, it’s easier to pretend at night. Do you ever pretend, Miss?” “Call me Nancy, do! Of course, I pretend, often! I love to.” “Ain’t it fun—I mean isn’t! I forgot. I play it ’most all the time.” Nancy looked curiously at the strange little figure, almost wraithlike in the dim light. It was hard to believe that the win , some creature could belong in ' Freedom—and to the “no good” | Ilopworths. i There waa grace in every move : ment of the thin little body not iu the least concealed by trie worn, soiled, out grown dress. Two i dark, burning, eager, questioning eyes told of a spirit that lived above und beyond the sordid, colorless monotony of a life with old Dan’l Hopworth and Liz, who “didn’t believe a feller ouglita ! have any fun!” | “What do you pretend, Miss ! Nancy?” 1 Nancy laughed and rubbed the I soles of her bare feet. | “ Well’ once I pretended I was the Moon Queen und I scratched my poor feet dreadfully. What do you pretend?” Nonie rocked back on her heels. “Oh lots and lots of different things. My everyday game is Rosemary. She’s my make be lieve chum. She lives down in the haunted house on the North Hero road, only when I pretend, of course, the house isn’t haunt ed. And it’s got lovely glass things from the ceiling for can dles and they sparkle like rain bows and diamonds. Rosemary and I play games and we—we read and tell each other stories and sometimes she helps me with the work, when Liz ain’t around. Only Rosemary don’t believe in fairies. She says that's baby, so when she's away 1 pretend fairy.” “When the moon shines-” “Oh, yes, it’s nicer then. And you can’t play fairy round onr house because there ain’t—there are not—any flowers. So I come here—there are such lots of pret ty shadows—and nice smells. I pretend all the flowers como out from the garden and have a par ty. It’s fun having the flowers. ’cause you can just tell how they’ll act. You know a tulip's I going to bo awful tall and proud j and bow—like this! And a rose’ll . act shy, and a buttercup’s pert. And a daisy’s shamed ’cause her j dress ain’t better—I mean isn’t. (And a dandelion’s awful bold. ! And a daffy-down-dilly—oh, they're jolly!” “How perfectly delightful! Tell me more, Nonie. I believe you have a witch for a fairy grandmother!” Nonie giggled. “That’s ’noth er of my games. I've had that for a long time. She’s coming some day and touch me with a wand and make me into a beau tiful lady. And I’ll go out and step into my carriage and a foot man all shiny^and white will say: ‘To her Majesty’s!’ And I’ll sit in the best parlor and drink choc olate and real whipped cream from cups with pink roses on ’em, and a page will say: ‘ Do have an other piece of cake, your lady ship,’ and—and I’ll say. ‘I couldn’t hold another mouthful, thanks, I’ve had five! ’ ” Nancy and Nonie laughed to gether. Then Nonie sighed. “Do any dreams ever come true 7 I mean the kind of things you sit and think about and want 7 ’ ’ “Maybe, if you dream hard enough, Nonie,” Nancy an swered, soberly. “ ’Course I know some of the things I pretend can’t come true but maybe some will. Miss Denny told me they might. Only she said I’d have to make ’em. She’s my teacher. I love her. I guess you’re most as nice as she is. She gives me books and tells me when I say bad- grammar. She says we must just think beautiful things and then put them into the right words—but it’s hard! I forget awful easy. She don’t—I mean, she does not—think Uni queer. Liz calls me ‘ loony! ’ ” “Oh, no—Nonie,” protested Nancy, “Liz just can’t under stand.” “But you do, don’t you? Miss Denny did, too.” Nonie was si lent for a moment. “After I’ve learned a lot more I want to go out in the world with Davy and make a fortune. I don’t know just how—but I want to do grand things. There’s some places, ain’t there—aren’t there—that’s so big folks wouldn’t know we were [ Hopworths 7 Davy says he wants to go to sea and Liz says he’ll come to no good end like Pa, but mebbe I can take him with me.” §>he sighed. “It’s awful long off ’til I grow up, though, I’m only 12.” Then Nonie added slowly, as though she was sharing a secret: “There’s one more tlnng I pre tend. After I go to bed I shut my eyes tight and pretend that a beautiful lady with hair all gold and eyes that twinkle like stars and smile at you, comes and sits J by my bed and takes hold of my ! hand and pats it and then kisses | me, sort of on my forehead, and says: ‘Good night, sweetness,” | like that, in a voice that’s soft j like music and not a bit of the 1 holler kind!” Nonie gave a little [sigh of rapture. “It’s nice, you ! see, to have a make believe moth | cr like that! I s’poso a real one j wouldn’t have time. Anyways, Liz says she’d like to see a real ' mother do more for young ’uns I>> j Nancy blinked a sudden rush of tears from her eyes. She felt that sho had seen bared the very soul of a child—a soul hungry for | kindness and for love. She reached out and took one of the Ismail hands in her own. j “Nonie—let’s you and I play ! lots together. I can give you books, too. We’ll read them to gether. You can come to Happy : House often in the daytime. ’ ’ I Nonie shook her head doubt fully. J “Liz won’t let me. She says there ain’t—there isn’t—no use j my going off and leaving my ; work. She says school’s bad * enough!” j “Does Liz —■ punish — you ! much!” j ‘‘ She chases Davy and me with 1 the broom sometimes. And she ' scolds, too, but we don’t mind, i ’cause she’s scolding all the time. ! I wish she would whip us—or lock us up—or—or—or send us (to bed! 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