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THE FORTUNES OF
OLIVER HORN
by F. Hopkinson Smith
THE FORTUNES OF
OLIVER HORN
CHAPTER I
And now that each was an old man the mutual service
was still continued.
"How are you getting on now, Malachi--better?
Ah, that's good--" and the master's thin white hand
would be laid on the black wrinkled head with a
soothing touch.
Malachi understood.
CHAPTER II
"No!"
"Mr. Crocker."
CHAPTER III
Sue and Oliver sat on the top step; they had stolen
across from the Clayton porch on some pretended
errand. Sue's chin was in her hand, and Oliver sat
beside her pouring out his heart as he had never
done before. He had realized long ago that she
could never understand his wanting to be a painter
as Miss Clendenning had done, and so he had never
referred to it since the night of the musicale, when
he had raced across the Square to tell her of his talk
with the little lady. Sue, as he remembered afterward,
had listened abstractedly. She would have
preferred at the time his running in to talk about
herself rather than about his queer ambitions. She
was no more interested now.
CHAPTER IV
AN OLD-FASHIONED MORTGAGE
CHAPTER V
A MESSAGE OF IMPORTANCE
The die was cast now. She had taken her first
step without Richard's hand to guide her--the
first in all her life. It was pain to do it--the
more exquisite because she loved to turn to him
for guidance or relief, to feel the sense of his
protection. Heretofore he had helped her in every
domestic emergency, his soft, gentle hand soothing
and quieting her, when troubles arose. She had
wavered during the night between her duty to her
family in saving the farm, and her duty to her husband
in preserving unbroken the tie of loyal dependence
that had always bound them together. Many
emotions had shaken her as she lay awake, her eyes
fixed on the flutings in the canopy of the high-post
bedstead which the night-lamp faintly illumined,
Richard asleep beside her, dreaming doubtless of cogs
and pulleys and for the hundredth time of his finding
the one connecting link needed to complete the
chain of his success.
But before the day had broken, her keen, penetrating
mind had cut through the fog of her doubts.
Come what may, the farm should never be given up.
Richard, for all his urgent need of money to perfect
his new motor, should not be allowed to sacrifice
this the only piece of landed property which they
possessed, except the roof that sheltered them all.
The farm saved, she would give her attention to
Oliver's future career. On one point her mind was
firmly made up--he should never, in spite of what his
father said, become a painter.
"Me, sir."
"What for?"
"'I, beg your pardon, sir,' I said. 'I did not intend
any trespass--' I was walkin' toward him now.
I did not want him to shoot again.
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
"If that ain't your dog what yer doin' with him?
See here, I been a-watchin' ye. Yer got ter move
on or I'll run ye in. D'ye moind?"
Oliver's eyes flashed. In all his life no man had
ever doubted his word, nor had anyone ever spoken
to him in such terms.
CHAPTER VIII
AN OLD SONG
And the second was not far off, for in the midst
of all the uproar that followed, as he resumed his
place on the floor, Cockburn sprang to his feet and
proposed Mr. Oliver Horn as a full member of the
Skylarkers' Club. This was carried unanimously,
and a committee of two, consisting of "Ruffle-shirt"
Tomlins and Waller, were forthwith appointed to
acquaint the said member, who stood three feet away,
of his election, and to escort him to Tomlins's chair--
the largest and most imposing-looking one in the
room. This action was indorsed by the shouts and
cat-calls of all present, accompanied by earthquake
shakings of the coal-scuttle and the rattling of chairlegs
and canes on the floor.
Oliver rose to his feet and stood blushing like a
girl, thanking those about him in halting sentences
for the honor conferred upon him. Then he stammered
something about his not deserving their praise,
for he could really sing very few songs--only those
he had sung at home to help out an occasional chorus,
and that he would be delighted to join in another
song if any one of the gentlemen present would start
the tune.
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
"No; why?"
"My friend, Mr. Horn, did not like the play to-
night, Mr. Gilbert," he said. "He thinks the
death-scene was horrible"--and Simmons glanced
smiling at the others who stood at a little distance
watching the interview with great interest.
"Dear me, dear me, you don't say so. What was
it you objected to, may I ask?" There was a trace
of anxiety in his voice.
Once safe upon the attic floor the band who were
entering with great gusto into the spirit of the occasion,
arranged themselves in a half-circle about the
piano, replaced their shoes, stripped their instruments
of their coverings--the cornetist breathing noiselessly
into the mouth-pieces to thaw out the frost--and
stood at attention for McFudd's orders.
Miss Ann winced under the shot, but she did not
answer.
CHAPTER XI
A CHANGE OF WIND
CHAPTER XIII
"At Pollard's."
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
"Yes."
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
"Why, Sue!"
"I don't think they want to, sir. They are opposed
to slavery and so are a good many of us. You
have a wrong idea of the life at the North, Colonel.
You have never been North, I believe?"
"Boston."
"How, mother?"
"Yes."
"Miss Grant."
"Madge."
"Yes." (Pianissimo.)
"YES." (Forte.)
"YES!" (Fortissimo.)
"Yes."
"If she loves him, she shall have him. There shall
be no more desolate firesides if I can help it."
CHAPTER XVIII
"Mother"
"John Grant."
"You! Malachi!"
"No."
"I do."
CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XX
"Horn's."
"Snedecor's"
And Oliver--
"Did what?"
"Knew how."
CHAPTER XXI
CHAPTER XXII
It read as follows:
"Sallie T. Horn."
"John Snedecor."
"Sold it!"
CHAPTER XXIII
CHAPTER XXIV
IN THE TWILIGHT
"Yes."
CHAPTER XXV
SMOULDERING COALS
"My lover."
"When?"
"Mally!"
"What is it about?"
"Raise me up."
CHAPTER XXVI