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Updated: May 12, 2025
For that matter, there was something about the very shop downtown, with its workroom in the rear, that had a cozy, homelike quality never possessed by the big Baldwin house. H. Charnsworth Baldwin had built a large brick mansion, in the Tudor style, on a bluff overlooking the Fox River, in the best residential section of Chippewa. It was expensively furnished.
Full of natural hazards. Say, couldn't you die!" For H. Charnsworth Baldwin had been little Henry Baldwin before he went East to college. Ten years later H. Charnsworth, in knickerbockers and gay-topped stockings, was winning the cup in the men's tournament played on the Chippewa golf-club course, overlooking the river.
Nothing matters but Eugene, anyway. How could he do such a thing! I've given my whole life to my children " H. Charnsworth kicked the cushion again so that it struck the wall at the opposite side of the room. Flora drew her breath in between her teeth as though a knife had entered her heart. Adele still stood at the side of the bed, looking at her mother. Her hands were clasped behind her, too.
And his name, in stout gold letters, blinked at you from the plate-glass windows of the office at the corner of Elm and Winnebago: NORTHERN LUMBER AND LAND COMPANY H. Charnsworth Baldwin, Pres. Two blocks farther down Elm Street was another sign, not so glittering, which read: Miss Sophy Decker Millinery Sophy's hatmaking, in the beginning, had been done at home.
And his name, in stout gold letters, blinked at you from the plate-glass windows of the office at the corner of Elm and Winnebago: NORTHERN LUMBER AND LAND COMPANY. H. CHARNSWORTH BALDWIN, PRES. Two blocks farther down Elm Street was another sign, not so glittering, which read: MISS SOPHY DECKER Millinery Sophy's hat-making, in the beginning, had been done at home.
Ella and Grace did not manage badly, considering that they had only their girlish prettiness and the twine hammock to work with. But Flora, with her beauty, captured H. Charnsworth Baldwin. Chippewa gasped. H. Charnsworth Baldwin drove a skittish mare to a high-wheeled yellow runabout; had his clothes made at Proctor Brothers in Milwaukee; and talked about a game called golf.
Full of natural hazards. Say, couldn't you die!" For H. Charnsworth Baldwin had been little Henry Baldwin before he went East to college. Ten years later H. Charnsworth, in knickerbockers and gay-topped stockings, was winning the cup in the men's tournament played on the Chippewa golf-club course, overlooking the river.
He was chewing a dead cigar, one side of his face twisted curiously over the cylinder in his mouth so that he had a sinister and crafty look. "Charnsworth, won't you please stop ramping up and down like that! My nerves are killing me. I can't help it if the war has done something or other to your business. I'm sure no wife could have been more economical than I have.
Not that I but you know how it is." H. Charnsworth Baldwin said yes, he knew. But perhaps you, until you are made more intimately acquainted with Chippewa, Wisconsin; with the Decker girls of twenty years ago; with Flora's husband, H. Charnsworth Baldwin; and with their children Adele and Eugene, may feel a little natural bewilderment.
That the three girls should marry well, and Sophy not at all, was as inevitable as the sequence of the seasons. Ella and Grace did not manage badly, considering that they had only their girlish prettiness and the twine hammock to work with. But Flora, with her beauty, captured H. Charnsworth Baldwin. Chippewa gasped.
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