I-— - --
| HAPPY HOUSE
By Jane D. Abbott
COPYRIGHT, 1920. BY J. B. UPPINCOTT COMPANY
■ :"""
“Yes’m! Caught him jes’
agoin’ to tako the stage.’’
“Going away?” Naney cried.
“Yes’m. He had a big bag
and he give me a handshake like
he was goiri’ to be away for a
spell, thought it’s most harvest
in’ and he’s not the kind tp leave
Judson short handed—not him.”
After a mothcnt Naney grew
conscious that old Jonathan was
staring curiously at her. So she
turned and walked slowly back
to the house.
Peter Hyde had gone away—
without a word! He would read
her letter; he would"always think
of her as she had pictured herself
in it! And he might never know
how the curious tangle had come
out!
i CHAPTER XXVIL
Archie Eaton Returns.
Liz, returning from her after
noon’s work at the meeting
house, blew breathlesly into the
Hopworth kitchen.
“As I live, Archie Eaton’s
cornin’ home—this blessed day!
His ma got. a telegram last, night;
Sammy Todd brought it over
from Nor’ Hero on his bicycle.
And Webb’s put a notice in the
postoffice—ho wants every man,
woman and child to meet on the
Common tonight at seven to sort
o’ welcome Archie to home.”
“Everybody? Me and Davy,”
broke in Nonie, excitedly.
“Of course, when Webb says
every man, woman and child it
means all of us,” answered. Liz
with importance, smoothing out
her trineham apron.
Three days had entirely made
over Liz Hopworth. Sarah Hop
kins’ death had given Liz, hither
to an outcast, a position of im
portance in the community.
However unfitting Freedom’s
ladies might have thought it, nev
ertheless it was an (indisputable
fact, and everyone knew it, that
Liz's hands had “done for” the
stricken family; she had cleaned
and comforted, dusted and baked
and stitched together suitable
mourning for poor Jennie, the
oldest Hopkins girl. At. the sim
ple funeral it.had been Liz who
had greeted the neighors and
had urged them to “just look at
Sarah Hopkins—you’d think she
was enjoyin’ it all, she’s that
happy lookin’!” What no one
else knew was that it had been
Liz who had put her arms around
Jennie Hopkins when a complete
realization of her loss had swept
over the girl and had bade her
“just lay your poor little head
right here and cry all you want
to!” Never in all her life had
Liz’s arms known such a labor of
love. Jennie had cried all she
wanted to—great, heart-breaking
sobs that had, though they ex
hausted, finally soothed her.
From his corner where old
I)an’l, with hanging head waited
his supper, came a grunt of un
belief. Liz turned reprovingly.
“Anyway, Archie Eaton’s a
soldier even if he be an Eaton!”
Then, to Nonie: “I met Mis’
Sniggs coinin’ up the village and
6hc wafits all the little girls to
wear white and throw bouquets
at Archie as he’s gettin’ off the
stage and sing America. She’s
goin’ to get the flowers at Mis’
Todd’s and Mis’ Brown’s. Miss
Nancy’s white’s too nice, but I
guess your gingham’s faded most
white ’nougli. Anyways, it’s
—* I_* ___,1 » >
r .“Have I time to run up and
tell Miss Nancy!”
“Lan’ sakes, no! We gotta
get supper spry so’s to have the
work cleared away. Nancy Leav
itt knows it, 1 callate—ain’t
much happens Webb doesn’t car
ry straight off up to Happy
House. 1 guess maybe they’re
pretty busy, too. Things is cer
tainly changin’, I said, when Sa
briny Leavitt goes to poor Sarah
Hopkins’ funeral, sittin’ right on
the plush chair over in the right
hand corner near the waxed
flowers. And sure’s I’m alive,
■he’s taken the Hopkins baby up
to Happy pouse to do for. She
wanted it to keep regular like
her own, but Timothy Hopkins
wouldn’t listen for a mini!—his
children wa’nt a goin’ to be sep
arated if they all starved! Seems
to me he was foolish, but he was
awful set and inebbe he was
right. Dan'l Hopworth, take off
your slippers! Of course you’re
Join’ to see Archie Eaton come
omel I guess you’re as patrio
tic as any other folks.”
Lis’s determination won its
point so that a little before 7
the entire Hopworth family
a
joined every other “man, woman
and child” on the village com
mon. The common presented a
pretty sight, big and small flags
fluttering, the weather worn ser
vice flag again hoisted to its
place of honor and women and
children in their best attire. Mrs.
Eaton, upoh whom every glance
turned with frank curiosity, did
not need her gorgeous purple
poplin with its lace ruffles swell
ing over her bosom, to make
her the most conspicuous figure
in the gathering—that she was
the mother of the returning sol
dier was enough ! And her eyes,
ns they strained down the road
like the others, for a first glimpse
of Webb’s horses, were wet
with tears.
Someone saw a little cloud of
dust and set up a shut: “He’s
cornin’!” Others took up the
cry. Mrs. Sniggs frantically
gathered her flock of little sing
ers around the carriage block in
front of the meeting house,
whefe Webb had promised to
pull up his team. Some one
pushed Mrs. Eaton toward the
spot.
“Thero he is,” piped a small
boy, pointing to the khaki figure
that leaned out of the stage, vio
lently waving a hat.
“Who’s the other fellar?”
asked Mr. Todd, but no one
around him seemed to know.
All ceremony was thrown to
the four winds; the hysterical
piping of the little girls was lost
in the wild rub-a-dub dub of the
Freedom’s drummers and the
clamor of excited voices from the
pushing, jostling crowd. How
ever, Archie Eaton was utterly
unconscious of it all, for in less
than a second he was tightly en
veloped iii folds of purple pop
lin !
After a moment he sprang
back to the step of Webb’s wag
on and raised his hand.
“Mebbe you think it ain’t
good to get home! I’ll say it is!
I’ve laid awake nights dreamin’
of this. I ain’t goin’ to make a
speech, folks, but I’ve got to tell
you something. I wanted to send
word to you back a time but my
buddy here wouldn’t let me!
Mebbe you don’t remember my
buddy—he’s changed a lot, I
guess, but he’s from Freedom, all
right!” He pulled at the arm of
his companion. “Stand up, so
folks can see you! Give a cheer,
now, for Eric Ilopworth, the best
and bravest soldier in Uncle
Sam’s army!”
Not a throat in Freedom could
have made a sound for utter sur
prise. They gaped at the big
bronzed fellow in khaki while
Archie Eaton went on, speaking
rapidly.
“Mebbe you folks up here
don’t know yet that he led a
bunch of us after a machine gun
nest that was boldin’ back the
fellows there in the Argonny and
that when every man of us
dropped he went on single hand
ed, with a nasty hole in his side,
and got every Jerry of ’em!
Hut I guess before he done that
he pulled Archie Eaton back
where the Jerries couldn't finish
me with their shot pepperin’ the
lot of us as we lay there and—
well, he’s done a lot more’n that
and mebbe you don’t, know that
the other day some fellers down
at Washington gave him a dis
tinguished service medal which I
guess puts him pretty near next
to Ethan Allen himself! So set
up a shout that’ll split your
throats for Eric Ilopworth,
’cause if it wasn’t for him Archie
Eaton wouldn’t be here holdin’
his mother’s hand and cryiu'
real tears, he’s that tickled to be
home, and this old North Hero
wouldn't be on the map like ’tis!
So let her rip, fellows! My bud
dy, Eric Ilopworth!”
ouiueiumg, pern, up wane
Archie Eaton was speaking,
burst with a roar. Each person,
big or small, tried to shout loud
er than anyone else; each tried to
press close enough to lay a hand
on the hero. And, strange sight,
Mrs. Eaton was now clasping
Eric Hopworth in her arms 1
Nancy, standing a little apart
with Miss Sabrina, shouting like
the others, suddenly felt her
throat choke with a sob, for she
s$w Dan’l, stung to life, leap for
ward through the crowd to reach
his son, his face lifted and light
ed by a great pride. Then, as
they clasped hands, the crowd
parted suddenly, and through it
flashed two small figures. In
less than a moment Nonie and
Davy were both in their father’s
arms.
No one stopped to recall the
stories of Eric Ilopworth's youth
nor of his bringing the two babies
back to his father. It was enough
that he was there among them,
one of the country’s heroes.
Mrs. Eaton was excitedly beg
ging everyone to come to her
home and have ice cream and
cake, and there was a general
movement of young and old to
accept her hospitality. But
when she urged Eric Ilopworth
he shook his head, slipping one
arm over his father’s shoulder.
“I guess we want to go home,”
he explained, a little embar
rassed. ‘‘You see, it’s been a
long time—Pa and I have got a
lot to say t<^ each other! And
we’ve got to get acquainted,”
nodding at the youngsters who
were clinging to his arm.
There wa3 a great deal that
Eric Ilopworth could not tell his
father, for the Simple reason that
he had not at his command the
words that could tell of the les
sons the war had taught him.
But in one simple, awkward sen
tence he tried to express his re
morse and penitence.
‘‘Well, Pa,” they had stopped
before the door of the dilapidated
house, ‘‘I guess it took the war
to make a man of me 1 I went
into it ’cause it looked pretty
excitin’, but it didn’t take me
long to find out it was a big job
and the kind of a job that meant
a fellow had to give the very best
in him—and only the bestl I’ve
had time to think a lot and things
sort a come to me different, over
there. I guess I know now that
I’ve got a job right here most as
big as the war and I’m goin’ to
do it 1 I’m goin’ to make a home
for you and Liz and the kids—a
real home!”
Nonie, standing off, a little
shyly and uncertainly, was steel
ing herself for a test. Out of a
clear sky had dropped a real
father. He looked very big, but
his face was kind, and he had a
nice voice. Perhaps—perhaps
one of her dreams was coming
true! She slipped away to her
room and made ready for bed
with trembling fingers. For a
long time she lay listening to the
voices below. Ai'ter a little Davy
came in and crawled sleepily into
the cot in the corner. Still she
waited, her hands clasped tight
ly under the covers. At last she
heard a step—not like her grand
father’s, nor Liz’, she knew
their—a cautious- tip-toey step.
As it came nearer she shivered
with exquisite anticipation.
Eric Ilopworth leaned over the
bed. He had thought Nonie would
be asleep. She held her eyes shut
tight for a moment. He laid his
hand on her head with a shy,
caressing movement. Suddenly
the child threw her two arms
[around his neck. He held her
close, then he kissed her and
laid her gently back upon the pil
low.
‘‘Good night, kiddie.” he whis
pered softly, and tip-toed out of
the room.
Nonie gave one long, happy
sigh, then, cuddling down under
the covers, dropped off iuto
dreamless slumber.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
A Letter From the Master.
Four days had passed since
Nancy had written her confes
sion and sent it off to Peter
Hyde. They had seemed end
less, too, in spite of all the
strange changes at Happy House.
Aunt Sabrina and Aunt Milly
were pathetically and helplessly
busy over the new member of the
family, and his coming had nec
essitated momentous reforms in
the habits of the household and
long arguments as to the proper
care of infants. B'lindy had fi
nally found somewhere in the
back of a “Household Helper" a
chapter on the “Care of the
Child,” and went about all day
with a finger between its pages
and a superior look on her face.
Nancy had spent one entire af
ternoon at the Ilopworth’s. Nonie
and Davy had come for her and
had dragged her back with them
to see their “Dad”.
“Ask him to tell you ’bout—”
and Davy had, breathlesly, rat
tled off a dozen or more of the
war tales that he had liked best.
Nancy had thought, that af
ternoon, that, somehow or other,
the Ilopworth kitchen had
changed since that first day she
had visited it. It was cleaner,
homier; there was less litter, the
air was not so heavy with the
stale odors of cooking. Old
Dan’l sat near the open door
smoking the pipe Eric had
brought him, his eyes following
Eric ’8 every movement. Liz,
fussing about over household
tasks, was less dominant, less
forbidding, and the tired look
had gone from her face.
With the children’s chatter
Eric Hopworth's shyness soon
wore off. Nonie had tld him of
the pleasant days at Happy
House with Nancy; he felt a deep
gratitude to these people who
had been doing for his two “kid
dies” what he should have done.
At Davy’s coaxing he had re
peated for Nancy some of the
incidents of the war in which he
had shared. Davy had proudly
exhibited the precious trophies
that had come home in his fath
er’s luggage.
“And Dad’s going to stay .
home always and always now”
Nonie had announced. Then
Eric Hpworth explained that he
had taken a position in a big
manufacturing plant at Burling
ton.
“The boss there was my cap
tain. It’ll do for a start. After
a bit, maybe, I can take the fam
ily there, though Pa’ll likely
want to always stay here in Free
dom,” he had added with a
squaring of the shoulders that
said plainly that the burdents of
the househould now rested upon
him.
Nancy had gone away from the
cottage that afternoon with a
feeling in her heart that Nonie
and Davy would no longer need
her. Davy, with his first hand
war stories and trophies and a
real hero for a father, from now
on had an assured standing
among the youths of the village,
and Nonie had some one to love
and to love her.
So the little loneliness that this
thought created added to
Nancy’s restlessness and made
the hours seem endless. And it
made her, too, haunt the door
way watching for Jonathan and
possible letters. 4
She told herself, sternly, that,
of course, it was silly t .expect
Peter Hyde to write—that was a
closed chapter. But she had writ
ten a long letter to Anne, telling
her of the strange things that had
transpired at Happy House and
of the two dear little sisters who
were undoubtedly Anne's rela
tives. Surely Anne must answer
that letter.
uiu jonatnan was too simple
hearted to wonder why Nancy
ran out each day to greet him
or why she asked, each day, in a
manner she tried to make casual,
if “Mr. Judson had anyone to
help him yet?” But on this
fourth day, his smile was broad
with satisfaction as he proudly
placed in her hand a big, flat
envelope.
A week before Nancy would
have exclaimed—for it was from
Theodore Hoffman. Now she
turned away in disappointment.
In the excitement of the last
few days she had forgotten her
play. She opened the envelope
now with steady fingers. By
some intuition she knew just
what she would find inside.
There they were—all the sheets
over which she had toiled so long,
familiar, yet unfamiliar, their
freshness gone from handling—
tired looking. Before she opened
the master’s letter she gave them
a tender little pat, as though she
felt very sorry for them.
The master’s letter told her
that her play had much merit
and a great deal of promise, but
that it was “young”. “You must
know more of life, my dear young
lady, live close to love and close
to sorrow and learn life’s les
sons, before you can portray
them.And never lose
faith in your work. After fail
ure, try again—and again— and
again. . . . Work, work, work,
greatness is in effort.”
Nancy read the words with a
thrill—it was as though he was
speaking to her.
Her labor of the last few
months should not be in vain; her
little play, though it had been a
failure, had brought her this gol
den message from the one who
had, through the effort he
preached, risen to the very top.
Then the last two paragraphs
of the masterls letter made her
forget everything else.
“I have had constantly in my
mind that strange child who
played and danced in your gar
den. She has haunted me. You
told me her name was Nonie
Hopworth.' I have looked up rec
ords and have learned that the
young student who, 15 years ago,
gave such promise of dramatic
ability, was Ilona Carr and that
she married an Eric Hopworth.
This Nonie is without doubt her
child.
“Will you ask the child’s guar
dians if they will allow her to
come to my school at Tarrytown
for a few years? There she will
have the best schooling and
dramatic training that my teach
ers can give and her talent will
have an opportunity for de relop
rnent and growth. When she is
older Bhe shall “choose for her
self whether or not she will fol
low the calling-”
(To Be Continued Kelt Week),
aBweweeoeoeaesMoa
ETHREE MONTHS” |;
Idt, Bo* 98, „„„ ! !
.11., believes FEEL ( 1
i Dr. Hart- LIKE ! \
;arrhal con- I i i
GIANT J |
ttittd? feelUka SINCE 0
BjSSfTK USING j!
og and took to PF-INI.II!” i
and would not * ^ i.
g n couple bot- w mi , ,
in-ft-lin Tablets. i
i BontMkweut back to work m*
irrh of the nose and throat, which !
i into tbs bronchial tabes. ] |
I TORY IN USE !
SOL» EVERYWHERE j :
Question of Sex.
It happened on a College avenue
ear the other morning. Two women
were discussing the headline In the
morning paper which read “Arbuckle
Indicted for Manslaughter.” One of
the women remarked to the other:
“You know, I can't understand how
they can afrest him for manslaughter, :
when a woman was killed.”—Indian
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CROPS AND PROFIT
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Farmer on Low-Priced, Fertile Lands,,
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Why Not?
The human fly was scaling the out
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“What’s he doing?” asked an old
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“He’s going to the top of the build- ,
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“Well,” asked the old party, “why
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As Usual. i
“What are cold-storage eggs selling
for now?” “Strictly fresh, as usual.” <
—Boston Transcript. '
Only One That Counted.
Tomm/ lmd a little brother and a
iittle sister.
One day a neighbor met him going
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‘Are you the only child?”
“Nope,” he Importantly replied, “but
I’m the only one working.”
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A Fresh Start.
“Jack’s married.”
“Got through sowing his wild oats,
■h?”
“No, lie's already started a new
■rop with his wife’s money.”—Boston
rranseript. _
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Aatrla Is tfce trsde msrk of Bsysr Manufseturs of Mcooawtleseldoaur of SaUcrlLuud*