Norwich Bulletin Newspaper, September 25, 1920, Page 11

HE happy voless of chtléren,as I they played around an 014 &- der press, where the older people wers cngaged ia erushiag lete epples, came o the ears of Dave Thoraton a8 he turped his runsboul from the white road of the valley to ciimb Roan mountain t6 the pretty Iit- tle stone lodge be had visited every 2l for five years. Some day they, too, would be radely cisillusioned adout life, as Be ded been, thought Dave. Bat none of Als own glosmy thoughts were roflected In the scene about him. The mellow fra- grance of late autumm was iz the sir and here and there a pated oF crimson, the result of an early frost glowed against the green of the trees. To the left, in the valley, an acre of golden rod rippled in the breece, like & Beld ©f grain ready for ths barvest. Tha whistle of & bobwhité, calilng awest and clear, sounded from & neardy cornfield, where pumpliins la¥y yellow In the sunalight A trompet vine spilled its scarlet bloom rictously over Mlss Jessup, breathless with heste, rushed tn totell the telophome that Jessamy Weit was @ezd, Harriet Hall was MI )1!!1- ing some china. “Dead!” Harriet erief. She sat, sripping ber hands togetber, staring st Miss Jessup, her face as white as der ifttle ruffied epron. Through Rer mind reced 3 picture of lovely Jessamy West, rosy, full-bos- omed, laughing. Ten days before they had been partners at & gume of dridge. “Dead!” she repested fafatly. “Ob, Miss Jessup, it c2n't de treel” “T guess It ig, a)] right,” Wips Jessup s2id, grimly. “The doctor told ker when the children came Sows With diphtheria apd they quarantined the. house that she better stay away from them. The diseese always goes hard with full throated folks. But she laughed et him. And now sHe’s dead and poor Norman is aimest crazy. The children, however, are getting beiter, muxmw‘bw 3 mmmhtu-nmml When Dave was half a mflnal‘é- “ia fine poinis of thedsw. Motherand outot tho workl far hism, but Jove oan happiness greiter than be bad ever old, a triffe Blase, and ber cumplexios he Jovked up and saw the ke T have moveld in. Truthfully, wnbmumm&m»“ fiooZell his heart. - She had ‘was made tp too much for beauty. He' and better julgment. Five years be- a little white flower opening out of stopping at the hotel on top of the som® as well as'in t.he springtime of ‘taken his cold, empty little house &nd had hesn fortunate to escape her. He fore he had built the little white lodge ‘wuq‘b’fimd tressures, picked up on his iravels all over the world. They hod planved to spend their Bopeymoon there—he &nd Carolyn Mayzsrd. But fete, in the person of aaother men, bed interpased 204 Carolyn bad Jted Wim and- mar- Tied a young ambassador who bad taken her abroad,immediately. Dave bsd pried open the old wound every year by going back and liviag over agein his old love affzir. Now he was going Dack 1o pack up ¢ f&w of Mis #Bings, for he had plamued to sell the Ppiacs to Fdmee Boyatop, 2 young girl who was begiunlug to sell short sto- ries to the magazines. He had met Ber at a Nttle studio tea and bad come o like her well enough to sali her his little house of dreams, that had never come true for him. £he was coming up the next day to lodk it over. thay ear.” Still Harviet coujd. not be- Meve it. But shs dad ‘to. whem she heard the news confirmed. Fessazny West was replly dead and her home wes made dgsoiste, It was pearly & memth later, that Hagriet met Norman walking with his two children. He looked pale and for- lorn. Sbe stopped to talk to biwm. "It was & fearful blow, Harriet,” he lunm thought: as . they plrta! “That fat, slow, wmussy sld woman. man," She welked dn with her head down and never saw the Rev, Thomas Brooke, veetor of fashionzble Christ Chyrch, who gazed at her from the other side of the street. Tt was koown to every body im Canton thet Herriet the dreams . a green calyx. Smeke curled azily mountain, but 1 wouid mot resist run- life, from the chimaey. Evidently the 0ld ning Gown bere and gettivg Qiings all earetaker was ready for him.. - nmmmhmmumumm apendd the Windows to the‘sunsliine of Tove, Miing it with dreams, rosy homelike for you. Like it2” she msk- that I came? uvfllh.fllficlfi- dreams, the @reams that must inev- eppointment- not to stay here—" {tably come true, “I love you,” he he saw a wmerry little fire of Bleck “So much that ¥ cex’t thiuk of sell- She turned ¥wiy, her Ups Quiverng. Mbmm'ilmm Mmpcmnhgunthen)flhx Ing the ‘plave mow.” andirons that had been Tis mother's. ‘Suddsnly 2 litfle plse i bis throst stories—love wtobles—up ‘A rough basket of wild flowers hung began to hammer with painful insist- She smiled then and looked up @t mating note, and the answer eame sofc “Do you ‘think- that you can write Gear”™ ‘here?” gave a festive. air to his ‘worp old arms and kiss her where bar skining ylo mever dcknowjedge,” she told him. leather couch unil he'sew & ukelele ‘Llack bair waved beck from her bigh “Writers mever admit 'thet they oan’t @ropped carelessly n the zoraer.. 4 Wwhite forehead. Hs dafl always felt write umyfiiug fhey witempt o pro- Chinese tea set that he hxdp’lckad up. that she attracted him powerfully, hut duce. The disease is fatal. One pever in Canten was on 3 WagoDstte Tittle biue flame burned under the-kot- tle. He stood in the doorway, & %isén fooled by one woman had little mfll unmums sex.’. Seeing emazed, wondering i his eyes did not Tdmee Boynton epuimEt the bachk- deceive him. Many times he had pit- pround of his litfle house of dreams tcred the littie house ke thef, werm fhst'had Sowered into a real home un- “Possession,” sald Edmee .Boyaton, made bim: reslize that. he had fallen afd intimate and couy. dressed in 2 dull blue smock that balf in love agumin, . tgoy B, hall revealed the cirves of her love with the litile story writer. He young body as she came o Toret him, 5a@ believed fhat romunts hall Sted Hall could heve the Rev. Thomas ‘Brooke for the Miting of 'z fnger. Tt _‘u-thnlmnhdflaahw him. - That wes Harriet's sccret zad she kept'it as religiously as She kept Sugday. Even Miss Jpssup, who knew everything, did not know that. - ‘Harriet loved Norman West. Tt had begun 1p their school days. She mever had any reason for 1oving him, but she 4id, so strangely: and. perversely. are women ‘made. Thres diflerent men she Tefused because ‘of Bi, and now she was about to refuse apother. She never expected.to marry Norman, but And sba was all of thirty years eld. The strange, sad occarrence kept Cantom talking for 2 long time. Miss -Jessup Bad @ greal deal o say sbout it to Harriet. “The butt‘mu: Norman can do is to"g@ married again ‘quitk as evér he taf. <Of tourse,'1 know he’s poor and ip debt, but seemg like some womnan pught to fake pity on bim. Hes',a pae ‘man, Norman West is. T've been trying to get Allie Hitt to go after him, but she says she was not, cutdut o be 3 second wile. T duano. I hope:when he does marry he won’t -get seme little sRippy Foung + piece that'll misuse the children. They . 'she could mot marry saybody. else.’ are darlings, both of "em.” ) “Yes, they are,” Harriet Teplied. “Margaret is just like her father and Francis is the image of Jessamy.” She changed - the suhject, but—+4t did not leave ker mind. And so months went by. Mrs, &r— ry stayed on and Miss Jessup saig that the house was becoming a pigpen, But .what better could Norman do? Spring. came, :nd summer, and then fall again. Jessamy had been @ead 2 year, Nerman looked like despafr it~ -stl¥ and the children began to show their neglect. The misfortunes of the ‘Wests were on every tongue. Onpe day at sunset Harriet picked Norman up “in the car as he was.re- turning from work. He looked shab- by, thin, pitecus. zyd 3 » burned cN Greals | €he. fire, and recbwers; Mmhmuf (ehe agliced, lwuplmiv. *in your own houser” ¢ He turned =ant m ‘both her fut- tering little hands tu. s owa. "I you will promise to-be m and own ‘half the hotse und—and-all of me!™ ke’ answered. “He drew-her iwto his ‘young body all the old doubt and mis- givings disippearsd Mo ‘magic and 2 | I'm reafly met #it to”get in beside you, Harriet!™ ks sald wistpully. “Nonsense!” ‘Hutriet Yetorted. She looked fresh “and brilliant in her brown, fur-trimmed coat aud velvet hat. It was snappy weather and her cheeks glowed. Naman West dare oot look at her;and she kmew it ‘There was shtistaction i the knowl- edge. “Nortfian,” she said, laughing- 1y. “what Wmm of 3 woman who proposed to a Wan?" “I would think he was a pretty poor stick of a man ‘who'l put ber in the corner wheré sbe'd have to do it. He . wouldd't b worth proposing to. Har- riet, now, would he?” FHarriet laughed again. “Ob, ! don’t know.. That depends. Maybe de was timid or-sofhething, and maybe she saw her happiness going and . felt bound to save 1t if she could™ *T wouldn’t Jet 3 woman propose to me, Harriet,” Norman sighed. “Wouldn't - you?” retorted Harriet. “Then please propose to me quick and ul‘uflfl.u Hitle . outside the door. 'Within gay piliows chce. He wanied to take her in his m. “There is suo Jisease (hat poo- and sweet from a contented heart. Mwamwmmnnud tbrough the door came a vision that Dawe thought could not be real. Car- mow—about you,” she told him. olyn Maynard, in the pale gray of wid- “was smiting st bim. He went | o meet her, his awrm suN unnnddh lttle story. writer. » Bven a8 he greeted her, thfs woman who had once thrilled him, he womdered how hier coming would affect him, but his pulse, save when he looked at the ‘wondering Efmee, was just as steady as uyual. He might have been greet- ing apy chance acquajntance. He was U8 that Carolyn lobked rather found himseif critically comparing her to the sincere nattraily beautiful M- tle creature who beld his heart. How ould be ever have loved Carolyn! - The fair visitor did not tarry long. She realized, al o well that a worn="" an of thirty can 20t stccessfylly com<4- pete with youth, at twenty. “The eternal triangie!™ exclaimed Edmee, when they were alone. “I think that 1 will write a love story LONIATRNY I “And how will you end it, Nttle ‘swectheart?” he whispered, his lips en - her eyes and ‘ber mouth. “The hero: and the lady who took * his house right away from him—" & “Were married in the moon of fall- = 1ng blossoms,” he supplemented. “And lived happily ever after,” she prophesied. Then in true housewifely - alarm she ran to the wagonette. “The kettle,” she sald dramatically, “bas bofled dry.”. By Phil Moore save me the trouble, Norman.” “Harriet!” he cried. “You wouldn't —+Fou couldn't—Ob, Harrel, you'd not stpop to marry me!” “It wouldn't be stooping to marry yeu, Norman,” she answered quietly. So they were engaged. And two _weeks later they went to the Methodist parsonage and wefe married. < Har- riet’s friends would have made her a wedding, but she declined. As for the Rev. Thontas Broeke, the day he heard she was going to marry Norman West he demanded a vacation on account of his health and went away-and stay- ed until it was all over. Harrlet took the Wests to her own home, where her housekeeper's codk- ing soon resibred ‘the Toses to the neglettéd children’s - cheeks. Im Do time also people began to lovk at Nor- mzn West with amazement. . He seem- ed to have undergofie a memtal and spiritual change. He mever had been accounted a busimess success, but sud- denly he was making bis townsmen take notice of him. “Harrlet didn't do 80 badly, after all,” they said. Harriet had done far from badly. She made Norman the man he always * should have been. He grew stout, rosy, light hearted. He paid off his debts without help from her, and be- came such a‘prodigious money maker that folks gasped at his success, “I wonder If you're as happy a8 you've made me, Harriet,” he said to her one day. Harriet smiled. “You do act happy, Norman. J'm fattered, I must be a success as a second wife. Not many ‘women are.” He took her in his arms. “Dear, 1f you badn't been so rich you'd nave been my first wife. 1 wanted you all the time, but I dida't dare ask you.” - commented Harriet She rubbed her cheek against his and laughed a little. “Do you knew, beney, I'knew that all the time,” she sald softly. By Abner Anthony VERYONE in Westmore liked bee, who were friends as well as cousins, besides belag extyemely young wives, and when old Miss Ap- pleby, their zoat, died and left each of them $7,000, everybody o town: felt & thrill of interest. They bad only been married & yoer, for the time when {ney could afford to got rid of the old house and build a Bew one. The $7.,000 ‘erriving umex- pectedly to the two girls, semt them into & great furry of escitement. | “1 gon’t have to think for one mo- mept what T shall do with my money,” Mgy said. “I shall have a new house.” “Whkat will you &0 with the old s2d Lad just micely got to housckesp- sne?” Olive zsked. ing 1o neighboring dweliings eu Pisk street. Olive was liviag in Jim's ol home, which hed come to him from Bis mother—a small, gray house, ratd- er shabby now, but which Jim hoped o fix up after he got to earning more. Olive had just the mecesssry houde- keeping things, byt they wers comfor- table. May, tno, ltved in an eld henes, ome which Will bad bought echeap ot & time when real estate was down. As May sald laughingly, ther werely eon- sidered themselves squatters, wiiting “Tear it dows. It ts3't worth much. But the lot is Jovely. And I Xnow ex-° actly the kind of house 1 want—like: Stewart Gibson's over there.” "Put that's such = big house just - for two pesplel” Olive exclaimed. “7 like big houses. 1 shall have it s little nicer than Gibsen's some ways. T've got the ideas’ 3ll'in my bead— 3bout the fireplace and the dutler's Paatry and the porches—" She broke of. lsughtag. “But there, I've not _apked yet what you are golng to do with your money?” 4 | "I don’f know what I shall o' with it, May. 'm zoing to talk it over with Jim. ‘T'vé just got 2’ faint idea—" But May was stzring out of the win- dow at the Gibson house across the street. ,“I don’t really like the shape of that balcony,” she said. “Do you, ,} -replied Olive , “¥ don’t. It ','53 wmueh like a swallow’s nest!” . screamed, “What an tdea! A ® nest!” She was hilzriously § y 9 T May's departure Olive went ‘o¥er the house from top to bottom. d been Jim's boyhood home and she.loved it for his sake as well as for ber own. In it ¢he had bad the hap- plest year of her life. Her hand ca- -Fegsed’the railing of the narrow stair- way. “Dear old house!” I couldn’t have it torn down fof the sake of building a new house updn its site—" She caught her breath as an icspiration came. Down she sat upon the stairs, and there she was whea Jim ecame whistling in through the froat door to supper. “Well,” be -said, “I just- walked up ‘with Will. He says May is going to build & mew house with her money.” “is he glad?” “Ob, sure! Will likes to make & sbow. He says if there’s’ anything left after the house they're going to get & runabout. Now I should begin with the runabout—"” He stopped—"if it was my money,” he ended embar- rassedly. Olive had her hands on his shoul- ders, “It is yours just as much as if it were left to you outright, dear,” she said. "Aren’t we partners In the joys she ‘murmured. &nd sorrows and good fortunes of each? Jim, May’s beén pver and we've been tnlking: She’s wild abeut having a new:house. Bat I }fke this old house better than any we could bulld.” Jim’s dark, earmest face lit up. “That pleases me,” he waid. “You know I'm fond of this houss, Olive, I can’t help Deing. T'd hate to give it up—" “We aren’t going to,” Olive inter- rupted. “Now listen to me.” “And you'rs E0iAg to stay in this old house!” May sald a few days later She and Will were boarding while their new house.was in course of con- struction. - “Just wait till you see my new-domicile, Olive. Youll wish for one yourseif, then.” Olive shook-her head. “No, Jtm and I are content with this house.” “But aren’t you aolnn to spehd your money?” S “Most of it.” “But how?” “Just wait and see.” Presently not only May, but all West- more, saw. Paint, paper, a changed pattitiop or two, a bathroom, a fire- place and a porch transformed the old housc. Besides all -this, there were new rugs, casy chairs, a talking ma- chine, mew curtains, books, and a hun- dred other bcautiful and comforting new things. A little work turned the barn into a garage and one morninga new five-passenger car took up its sta- tion there, “for,” szid Olive. “I sham’t be selfish!” There was stjll a goodly ralny day sum left to draw intcrest and yleld an income. Across _the street May's mew lhouse came to maturity. It was very fige. but Mey began to look worried. “It's going to take a lot of farmi- ture,” she sa'd. “Well, some of the rooms will have to wait.” 8he laugh- ed unecasily. ¥ guess Wiil and 1 have to ride in your car this sux Olive, i we go about at all cent bas gone into nothing left for a rui “It's a lovely house,” “S2 is yours. “It's comfy. May sighed. “Doa’t you tell Will or Jim, of them—don't you tell —but do you know somet! I'd doge as you did?™ ol ve sald, it's bome™ “Oh, pshaw!” laughed Olive coasols irgly. But after May bad gone back to the handsome ho across the strent, Olive sat by the fire thinking. As she thought her glance ved about the simple, graceful, cozy the books and mus that kad come out of drew 2 Ceep breath of con —_———— T is mors uatural then for WE:MUWI“. espeeially if she is and possesses g telligence, ambi And, be it known, Allison Kent.pos- sessed of the qualifications. True, she was only @ oy teacher, ome must start at the ladder and elimb rumg after the very tep. Wiy, would b8 bard werk, b the struggle, for the- meapt—fame. Ambitien that she could achieve thiy, 1 have mentioned before that country school teacher pesseseed geserous share of good looks, | to say, ltvumlMM trouble at the very of- career. Yes, she had brafus sad mmmnmmafl 53 .;5 3 usg it §§ 'h'. anlw:m , pepular young man village, failed entirely to rve- the Supday this teacher attepded 5 g =3 when they talyed it over wmw % mind was 2 H i ¥ pubject yader dis- man MMm HMMD N::l try vil- ® pame for himselt. to amags 3 fortune—ne of the words--and am- Dition eald Be could do ir, ¥ wanted the sound gone alefig' smoothly i fhese tvo:wt ‘these thoughts away from her as young people had -only listeaed to the sober counsels of ambition, but-just about that time eunother voice. began to whisper to them sbout 3 ragiant futgre ‘whers neither fame por wealth mattered in the lesst. At puch times' Jobn wonld see & littls white-estiage With vines growing over the door, and | always in the open doorway he would cateh s glimpse of o certajn young 124y with gray eyes, wavy brown bhair 8nd & most aderable smile, which in- varfably mede Bis beart beat fgster. Yes, it i6 a fact that this little teach~ er's good looks played the mischief with John ‘and his plans for the 'fu ture, . 3 And Alum Kent? ‘Why, sometimes the ladder of fame Seemed t6 her desparately high and Bard to climb, and often she wonder- d it making @ home could be called they are of secordary w;-‘ onou..o mmm: would have & caresr. But in the end she always unworthy the loftiér sims of ambition. Then one day John beard of a place in the far West where golden oppor- tunities awaited young men of pur- :u;uw«r.mhe decided to 1t was when he was bidding Allison good-by that the vine-covered eottage dream came to him ageln, and, act- ing on a sudden impuise, the next mo- ment he was telling her all shout it Would she be willing to start lite with him in such & bumble home? Weuld sbe.walt for hm? Then suddenly he . stopped, abashed at what he had done. With flushed cheeks the girl told him of her cereer, and the ladder of me she must climb. No, she couldn’t thogh—good friends—but nothing more, She was right, of course, JOMR. reasoned. Then be determtned m' 't . much coveted pomh?‘ promise. They could be {riends, to amass a fortune, and some day, aft- er she had Won fame, he would lay his wealth at her feet, Ves, he would wait until he could affer her & man- sion instead of a vine-covered. cottage. In the days that followed letters passed betweep the two oceasionally, but it was five years before they met 2gain, in sn Eastern city. . Heps they spent severa! bappy days {n sach oth- er's’ company,.and -~ thelr friendship deepened, byt they parted again ;nxt “good friénds™ for ‘the young was's fortune was not yet made. Asgain She . ysars - quickly away and at lest it seemed as if Joba's dream of wealth was to be realized. One day hs received a )Mmm Ali- son telling him that ‘ After this message hé; W’v\u to his business with renewed emergy. Mansions, gray: -u-;u& a.swonderful day dreams when—the crash came! Unexpected business reverses had swept away nearly bhalf of his for- tune, John aged wmvubly l; thou days. Feeling the need 0f & change, and de- sirous of seelny his lovéd ones, be took -a’ trip {0 his old hame. Alison often visited his people, and here they met agaln. ‘'Twas plalp. to see. thet they were happiest when in each oth- er's compainy, and why they were only “good friends,” was 3 puzzle hard to solve. No one knew of the ladder of fame, and John's dréam of ‘wealth to lay 2t her leen e o ast =ight of Allison’s answel wm question she had gsked, Np {houghiessly told " of his-108s. And then, before he re- alized it, he was pouring into her cars the story of his-struggle to amsass a foriuas—for bas, When be bad fia- ishied, he buricd his face in his hapds —ashamed of his weakness. But Alifson was speaking. “I'm so glad’ you've tolé me. 1 feared you wouldn't” he heard her saying, in & voice that thrilled bim. Then his hands were drawn gently awiy from his face, and he looked straight into a pair of tender gray eyes. “Oh, John,” she ericd, “F never guess-d that it is lon climbing the ladder cof 7 Have you never heart-breal tune—2lon: Sho hesitated 2 mom voice in which sobs and ed to mingle, exclal “Can’t you soe? Will you n derstand? Ok, blind boy, 1 doat wani 3 ] LoaTRaree OrTAse s wegith or fame; | want that vingcow .. ercd cottoge—znd yow"