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Updated: May 19, 2025
Horton's; he has been very generous to the poor people who suffered by the fire, and he is now consulting with Mrs. Delacour, who has an estate adjoining to Mr. Horton's, about her tenants, whose houses in the village were burnt. Now I have, in as few words and parentheses as possible, told you all I know of Mr. Hartley's history; but your curiosity still looks voracious."
It is Professor Katharine Lee Bates, writing in 1892, who gives us the picture: "My next neighbor, a valorous little mortal, now a member of the Smith faculty, was the first upon her feet, pulling me after her by a tug at my sleeve, coupled with a moral tug more efficacious still. Perhaps a dozen of us freshmen, all told, filed into Professor Horton's recitation room that morning."
Horton's here. Wait a minute I guess maybe he'd like to talk to you." The Kentuckian beckoned to Horton, and, as he surrendered the receiver, left the room. He was thinking with a smile of the unconscious humor with which the girl's voice had just come across the wire: "I knew that, if you two met each other, you would become friends."
If this could not be done, through the shallowing of the river, of course the boats would have to continue the journey up stream; but even then it was Captain Horton's intention to make use of the boat-guns as much as possible, and save the men from the disadvantages of boarding vessels that were so carefully protected.
Horton's kitchen" was a phrase as powerful as "Open Sesame"; and "the butler's pantry" edged the world of mighty dream. Above all, Mother occupied a new relationship towards them that made her twice as splendid as before. Until Uncle Felix came, she was simply "Mother," who loved them whatever they did and made allowances for everything.
His use of the strange word "timepieces" was convincing. The unusual was in the air. "There's Thompson's and Jackman's and Mrs. Horton's," Judy reminded him, her eyes shining like polished door-knobs. "Too wrong to matter," decided Uncle Felix. "They're always slow or fast." "Then there's the kitchen clock," Tim mentioned; "the grandfather thing." Uncle Felix reflected a moment.
Then he signed to the doctor, who raised his head a trifle and once more held a glass to his lips. "Read it. I want to see you've got it straight," he said. For a space Horton's voice rose and fell monotonously as he read in haste. Then he approached the bed with the paper, and the dying man seized the pen.
Rebby's thoughts traveled away to the dainties of the Hortons' cupboard, but she said to herself that the "spider cake," as the corn-cake was called, especially when eaten in the woods with freshly broiled salmon, would taste far better than the jellies and preserved fruits of the Hortons. Rebby could not forget Mrs. Horton's scorn of the liberty pole.
Horton's sticky cake in paper over the old grey fence. Him they regarded with a special awe and admiration, not unmixed with tenderness. He had smiled so nicely when he said "Thank you" that Judy, wondering if there was any one to mend his clothes, had always longed to know him better. It seemed so wonderful. How could he live without furniture, house, regular meals without possessions, in a word?
"But the whole success of our scheme depends on our keeping your father out of the clutches of the officers until we land him in Mr. Horton's office in Chicago. For the first time in our lives," Will continued, "we are opposing the officers of the law. As a rule that isn't a good thing for Boy Scouts to do, but we think we are fully justified in the course we are taking in this case."
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