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! It’d be like other kids,
then.”
j The strangeness of a child
longing for punishments that
j would make her life seem like
1 other children’s shocked Nancy 1
: She looked at. the thin body—was
' poverty starving the physical be
ing while neglect starved the
' spirit f__
(Continued next week.)
j Children under 16 years are barred
J from certain moving pictures la Lon
' don unless accompanied by parents or
f guardians. The films passed by the
j British censors are in two divisions.
J The first are for “universal'* exhibition.
and the second for “public” or adult
' exhibition only.
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A great boon to smokers,
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Combines pleasure and
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Don’t miss the joy of the
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Clarification.
“Did you make your ideas perfectly
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“If I did,” rejoined Senator Sor
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’em will take the trouble to drop
around and explain ’em to me."
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Well, Is It?
“It ought not to be necessary,” said
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Star.
Important to Mothers
Examine carefully every bottle of
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Children Cry for Fletcher’s Castoria
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Self-control frequently flows from
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