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That laugh was the first warming beam of a summer of happiness which was to golden the autumn of a bleak life made blest. Then Hattie Gilmore learned to play a score of out-of-door games and to understand sports. She learned to see the beauties in the roadside flowers-"weeds" her mother had called most of them. She learned to read glorious stories in the ever-transforming clouds.
Of course she's played me a couple of low-down deals and I promised to get back at her, but that's business. But " "So's this," interrupted Miss Hattie Stitch. "And I don't know that she is so square. Let me tell you that I heard she's no better than she might be. I have it on good authority that three weeks ago, at the River House, in our town "
I wouldn't have my lambs killed the way my father had his for a kingdom. I'll never forget the first one I saw butchered. I wouldn't feel worse at a hanging now. And that white ox, Hattie you remember my telling you about him. He had to be killed, and father sent for the butcher, I was only a lad, and I was all of a shudder to have the life of the creature I had known taken from him.
Nicholas Oldfield had been smiling his slight, dry smile. At this point, he took up a knife, and cut a careful triangle of pie. He did all these things as if each one were very important. "Here, Hattie," Said he, "you taste o' this dried apple. I put a mite o' lemon in." Hattie, somehow abashed by the mental impact of the little man, ate her pie meekly, and thenceforth waived the larger issue.
Supposing I gave in to this ridiculous fancy and said, 'Hattie hates me to go away, so I will just stop at home, and Miss Sefton shall be disappointed. I wonder how you would like that?" "That would not please me, either. I am not so selfish as that. Oh, Bessie, do tell me how I am to conquer this nervous dread of losing you.
He then took out a snuff-box, and, looking round about him while opening it, said, "Some of them dress too much, Miss, too much, altogether." "Kid gloves of all colors," said Hattie, soliloquizing. "Red morocco Bibles and hymn-books. What a white cloud of a turban! Part of the choir, I take it, those, with their singing-books. Elegant spruce young fellow, isn't he, Aunt? with the violoncello.
Perhaps she felt conscious of forty pairs of eyes waiting to see what she would do. The Substitute stepped hesitatingly up on the platform. She gripped the edge of the desk, and opened her lips, but nothing came. She closed them and swallowed. Then she said, "Children " "She's goin' to cry!" whispered Hattie, in awed accents. Emmy Lou felt it would be terrible to see her cry.
Hattie thought Rosalie frivolous, and Rosalie scribbled notes under the nose of Hattie's brilliant recitations. Miss MacLauren, on the neutral ground of a non-combatant, was expected by each to furnish the admiration and applause. Hattie's was the Field of Learning, and she stood, with obstacles trod under heel, crowned with honours.
"You see, Joe," she said sadly, "we 've took a flat since we moved from Mis' Jones', and we had to furnish it. We 've got one lodger, a race-horse man, an' he 's mighty nice to ma an' me, but that ain't enough. Now we 've got to do something." Joe was so smitten with sorrow that he gave her a dollar and promised to speak about the matter to a friend of his. He did speak about it to Hattie.
"What's that to you?" "Blood, Hattie. Thick." "What thickened it, Morton after sixteen years?" "Used to be an artist chap down in Rio. On his uppers. One night, according to my description of what I imagined she looked like, he drew her. Yellow hair, I reckoned, and sure enough " "You're not worthy of the resemblance. It wouldn't be there if I had the saying."
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