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Show I Children of the 1 Heart f 8 I I n I v By Rose De Witt Tresham $ (Copyright, 11)10, by W. G. Chapman.) "Oh, Hugh Evans is easy," boasted big tat Basil Drake. "He's a good fellow, fel-low, all right. He's friendly and accommodating. ac-commodating. Too much so for his rwn good. Hasn't any ginger in him, though. Wish I could marry him off and see him settle down for life." Well might bluff, hearty, but intensely in-tensely selfish Basil Drake speak indulgently in-dulgently and patronizingly of his cousin, Hugh Evans. Years before Drake had been a clerk of the senior Evans. When the latter died he turned the business over to Drake. "All I ask, Basil," he said, "is that you take care of my boy. Help him along until he can take care of himself, and tf you feel like giving him a start in life, then, so much the better." Now, Drake had done fairly well for this quasi ward, in his own estimation. estima-tion. He had sent him to school and provided for him, but he found Hugh fi. good helper about the store and had kept him ground down in a business way. Of late Mrs. Drake had intimated inti-mated that she wished Hugh would find quarters elsewhere, not that she disliked him, but the growing family seeded all the living room in the bouse. Hugh was a good man. When that was said, it covered the case. He was honest, industrious, sympathetic and kindly to all humanity. The Drake "Do It," Chuckled Drake. eystem had In a measure tended to suppress ambition, but the mental and spiritual aspirations of the man were pure and strong. He was content to remain in the humble situation fate seemed to have awarded him. As for the rest, truthfulness and earnest sentiments sen-timents of humanity for all his fellow creatures gave to Hugh that greatest of all blessings, a peaceful mind. It was towards the close of a fair epring day that Hugh, passing down a squalid street in the poorer portion of the town, paused to take in an unusual un-usual scene that appealed powerfully to his warm, sympathetic nature. A small heap of wretchedly poor furniture lay on the sidewalk, evidently evident-ly just removed from a two-room tenement. tene-ment. In its midst, wan, poorly dressed end evidently ill, was a young girl of about eighteen. Tears filled her eyes and the look of blank despair in her tired face made Hugh's heart ache. A motherly looking woman with a brood of tattered children at her heels was trying to console the poor girl. Her efforts seemed vain. As she stepped aside-Hugtr spoke to her and asked her the occasion of the distressing scene "Oh, sir, it's pitiful," broke out the genuine-souled creature. "She is Ivy Moore; Her father, who was an old physician without a practice, died a month ago. She has been ill since and today they evicted her and the poor sticks of furniture you see. She is crushed. Oh, she has had so little of Joy In life that she is heartbroken! I asked her to make her home with us until she is strong and well, but she will not do it, knowing how poor we are, dear soul!" "She must do just that," declared Hugh determinedly. "I will, give you 6ome money. You must see to it that she has care and food and nursing." "Bless you, sir! the poor creature needs it," and the woman went back to the girl and talked with her earnestly. earnest-ly. Hugh thrilled as the stricken creature crea-ture cast a glance of gratitude upon him. Then, overcome, she sank back unconscious. They took her into the rooms of the woman, who promisod to care diligently diligent-ly for her charge. Hugh gave her some money. He told Drake the pitiful story of the girl when he got ba;k to the store. 'Humph! You must have money to throw away," remarked his unfeeling relative. "I say, you seem gone on her. I knew her father. A respectable old 'has been.' Why don't you marry her that would solve the problem of a poor homeless girl needing a friend?" Hugh blushed to the roots of his hair, but he said, with dignity: "If I felt myself worthy of that sweet, patient creature I might consider con-sider your suggestion." "Do it," chuckled Drake, "and I'll give you a house and lot as a wedding present." "You mean that, do you?" interrupted interrupt-ed Hugh, rather grimly. "I do ha! ha! Sure, I do!" guffawed Drake, as though he was enjoying some immense joke. You give me a sort of cancellation of all obligations and the property I have in mind you shall have." "That's generous of you, Basil," said Hugh, in his usual way of humility. He never forgot the evening, one week later, when Ivy, nursed back to strength and hope, listened to his simple sim-ple appeal. "I am a lonesome man, you are a lonesome girl. I offer you a home. I think we could be very happy together." to-gether." "Oh! If I could think you would not tire of me I, so poor, so unused to love and tenderness! I could slave for you and be happy in the merest hut," she said. Basil Drake, in his coarse way, laughed uproariously as, a month before the wedding, he took Hugh to see "the house and lot." A narrow strip of land two hundred feet wide, half a mile In length, lay between the hills. Once there had been a house there. It had been burned down. All that was left was a substantial but rough tool house. "There's your house and lot, just as I promised," he said. Hugh winced, but he said quietly: "Thank you. I think I can make it do." He set at work to make the big roomy shell comfortable. One day while he was hard at work a stranger came to him. "I understand you own the valley strip here clear to the next section line," he remarked. "That's right," replied Hugh. "Got a deed to It?" "A week ago, all clear and recorded." record-ed." "We are surveying for a district Bewer system," explained the man. "I represent the county board of Improvements. Im-provements. Your land has a natural slant and could be utilized without excavating. Would you sell?" "Why, I suppose I would," answered Hugh. "I've considered the land, so low and narrow, rather valueless, but" "I can offer you five thousand dollars," dol-lars," said the man. Hugh was dazed. It seemed as If the coffers of Croesus had been suddenly sud-denly set at his disposal.' "I'll I'll take it," he all but gasped, a wild, joyous vision of a little two thousand dollar rose-embowered cottage cot-tage nearer town filling his vision. . Then he signed a contract to accept ac-cept five thousand dollars for the strip of ground, the "house and lot" shrewd, calculating Basil Drake had "put over upon him." Drake looked chagrined and mad when he learned of the transaction. One glorious evening, that of their plain, simple wedding day, Hugh Evans led his bride to the little cottage of which he was the proud owner. "Oh, Hugh!" she breathed ecstatically, ecstat-ically, as he led her up the path to the rose-glorified home, "this is not ours?" "Ours, my dear, yours and mine," he said. She put her loving arms about his neck. The blue heavens seemed to smile down upon them. Then, true children of the heart, they passed the humble portal of what was to them the most beautiful palace in all the wide, wide world. |