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Updated: May 9, 2025
"Ordinarily, young man, the latchstring of my home is out and the boys and the girls are welcome here to make merry in a sociable way." Mr. Harnden was distinctly patronizing, with an air that put Frank into the intruding-urchin class.
There were two doors opening into the kitchen from without, the front door and the back door. On the former of these, there came a light tap. Now callers upon the Hamlins, in general, just pulled the latchstring and came in.
Opportunity knocks at some people's doors nearly every day of their lives and is given a royal welcome. That's what Opportunity likes appreciation. It goes often to the home where the latchstring hangs on the outside. It's like a sign reading "Hot coffee at all hours, day or night" very inviting.
A few wet hens wandered aimlessly by the doorstep; a tiny bed of white clove-pinks and tall white phlox exhaled a homely welcome as the lame man hobbled up the steps, pulled the leather latchstring, and entered. In the kitchen an old Breton woman, chopping herbs, looked up at him out of aged eyes, shaking her head under its white coiffe. "It is nearly noon," she said.
If you just say the word I'll have Abel out in half a minute, and " "No," the girl said. "Good night." "Well, good night. I've got half a mind to go back with you myself," Sally called, as she lifted her hand to pull the latchstring of her door. Jane Gillespie found her father standing at the bars when she went back. He mechanically let them down for her.
In the hushed intervals she heard a steady pad, pad, sounding sometimes close by her door, again faintly at the far end of the room. A beam of light shone through the generous latchstring hole in the door. Stealing softly over, she peeped through this hole.
When the string was pulled in, the door was locked; but the free-hearted man always left his latchstring out, so that every comer could enter and share his fireside with him.
"The latchstring will be out from now on, Harry I want you to feel that it is your latchstring as much as mine." His son did not speak, but the way the two men suddenly clasped hands gave Jewel a very comforted sensation. "And you don't feel a bit sorry to be going alone to Chicago?" she pursued, again centring her attention and embrace upon her father.
Elsewhere, the skulking traveler received a chary welcome, but in the silent fastness of the hills latchstring and hearthstone and tobacco store were for genial sharing. In almost any one of these log shelters that he chanced upon he might have settled himself in content and found an indefinite welcome, but the urge to be up and on sent him forward to the next rude threshold.
The melting snow had soaked through the coat; her feet were wet with the clinging flakes, and the chill of a lowering temperature had set Hazel shivering. Roaring Bill halted at the door and lifted her down from Silk's back without the formality of asking her leave. He pulled the latchstring, and led her in. Beside the rude stone fireplace wood and kindling were piled in readiness for use.
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