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The engineer finally took the umbrella from Janice and raised it to shelter her. "They they broke two of the strings," muttered Hopewell, with thought for nothing but his precious violin. "You'd better cover it up, or it will be wet; and that won't do any fiddle any good," growled Frank, rather disgusted with the storekeeper.
"So you know Mr. Drugg and poor little Lottie?" "I've met them both once," admitted the girl. "Ah! then you know how little Lottie is to be pitied?" "And isn't he to be pitied, too?" Janice could not help but ask. Miss 'Rill blushed such a becoming blush as it was, too! She answered honestly: "I think so. Poor Hopewell! And I think he plays the fiddle real sweet, too.
Having thus engaged him in conversation with his friends, we proceeded on board the steamer, which, in a short time, was alongside of the great "Liner." The day was now spent, and Mr. Hopewell having taken leave of his escort, retired to his cabin, very much overpowered by his feelings. Mr.
Is the name of the maker inside the violin? Is it a valuable instrument, Mr. Drugg?" "I I don't know," the other said slowly. "Only for its associations, I presume. It was my father's instrument and he played on it a great many years. I I think," said Hopewell diffidently, "that it has a wonderfully mellow tone." "Well," said Frank, "that black-haired fellow had it.
And poor Hopewell Drugg, although he strained every effort, had succeeded in saving less than two hundred dollars during all these months! Nevertheless, Janice would not let the storekeeper lose heart. "It will come in time, Mr. Drugg," she told him, cheerfully. "And Lottie will be able to go to that wonderful school, too, where she will be taught many things."
But her quick mind jumped to the conclusion that the child belonged to the person whom she had heard playing the violin as she came down from High Street the unknown musician in the store above the door of which was the faded sign of "Hopewell Drugg." She squeezed the little girl's hand again and it seemed to suffice. "I know the way.
Mr. Samuel Slick is a native of the same parish, and received his education from Mr. Hopewell. I first became acquainted with him while travelling in Nova Scotia. He was then a manufacturer and vendor of wooden clocks. My first impression of him was by no means favourable. He forced himself most unceremoniously into my company and conversation. I was disposed to shake him off, but could not.
And, having received my commission, instructions, and her majesties letters, I departed from London, the 14th August 1585, in a tall ship called the Ascension, in company with the Minion and Hopewell. We arrived in safety at the port of Azaffi in Barbary on the 14th of September following.
"S'pose you'd been jest a drudge for Hopewell, all these years, Amarilla Scattergood?" "I might not have been a drudge," said Miss 'Rill, softly, flushing over her needlework. "At least my life and his would have been different." "Ye don't know how lucky you be," snapped her mother. "And this is all the thanks I git for tellin' Hopewell Drugg that he'd brought his pigs to the wrong market."
Folks will say you're flingin' yourself at Hopewell Drugg's head. An' after all these years, too. "Mother!" exclaimed her daughter, in a low voice, but earnestly. "Don't you think you did harm enough long, long ago, without beginning on that tack now?" "There! that's the thanks one gets when one keeps a gal from makin' a perfect fule of herself," cried the old lady, bridling.
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