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Updated: June 9, 2025


Occasionally the clouds would lighten for a moment as they frequently do in the hills; but the rain was still behind them and would burst through. "Come, Mr. Drugg," said Janice, more softly. "Let me show you what I mean. You can't really expect folks to come here and trade when they can scarcely see through the windows " "Yes, yes," he murmured. "I had ought to clean up a bit."

Crack the varnish. Spoil the tone." "Hullo, old fellow!" said Mr. Massey, patting Hopewell on the shoulder. "Guess you feel better heh?" "Ye yes. Why! that you, Massey?" ejaculated the storekeeper, in surprise. "'Twas me when I got up this mornin'," grunted the druggist. "Why why I don't remember coming here to your store, Massey," said the mystified Hopewell Drugg. "I I guess I didn't feel well."

"I suppose that is the way they both feel toward me," she thought, with a sigh. The wreck of the old fishing dock a favorite haunt of little Lottie Drugg was at the foot of the hill, and Janice halted here a moment to look out across it, and over the quiet cove, to the pine-covered point that gave the shallow basin its name.

But 'Rill Drugg and little Lottie were continually in her mind. From Walky Dexter, with whom she rode home to Polktown on Friday, she gained some information that she would have been glad not to hear. "Talk abeout the 'woman with the sarpint tongue," chuckled Walky. "We sartain sure have our share of she in Polktown."

Ye see, they couldn't find that fault with 'Rill Scattergood." "But I venture to say that they did when she first came to Poketown to teach," cried Janice. "Oh, say! I sh'd say they did," agreed Walky, with a retrospective rolling of his head. "An' she was a purty young gal, then, too. There was more on us than Hopewell Drugg arter 'Rill in them days yes, sir-ree!"

"She couldn't have married him otherwise." "And was Hopewell their only child?" "Yes. He seldom saw his father, but he fairly worshiped him. His father was a handsome man and he used to play his violin for Hopewell. It was this very instrument my husband prizes so greatly now. When Mr. Drugg died the violin was hid away for years in the garret.

And when I am worrying about little Lottie Drugg or even about Hopewell's lost violin I am not thinking about those awful gold coins and who could have taken them " "Here! here, young woman!" exclaimed the schoolmaster, stopping short, and shaking his head at her. "That's certainly not your personal trouble." "Oh, but, Nelson," she said shyly.

He seemed to be saying that to Janice from his photograph; therefore the girl was not likely to lose her interest in such a momentous affair as the new schoolhouse. There was another interest that held Janice's mind and sympathy. This was the condition of poor little Lottie Drugg. As she had been quite blind when Janice first met her, now her hearing had departed entirely.

She had "kept at" Hopewell Drugg until his store was the main topic of conversation all over town. The man himself was even "spruced up" a bit, and he met the curious people who put themselves out to see his rejuvenated store with such a pleasant and businesslike air, that many new customers were attracted to come again.

He set her down carefully, still shaking his head. Her strange little voice kept repeating: "Play for her, father! Play for her, father!" Hopewell Drugg picked up the violin and bow from the end of the counter. He leaned against the counter and tucked the violin under his chin.

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