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The pianist took a long look at Nell who had been visibly affected by his playing. Misgivings that date back to Eden were leaping into life in his breast. He had been in love more times than he could count, but here was the girl after all. He began a Scherzo of his own composition. Youth gathering flowers at the open mouth of a volcano. The melody was born to live forever. He was a genius. Now Nell knew it and her soul worshipped genius. Howard Eliot was far from her thoughts as she listened to the enchanting chain of melodies that poured forth. As that energetic lady bustled about the kitchen the same evening setting the bread, her voice rose in a series of trills and other embellishments as she sang “Where is my wanderin’ boy to-night?” “Some of the real stuff,” he requested, “just to make these folks realize they haven’t begun to live yet.”.
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“Well I only go ’way about onct in a blue moon,” declared Mrs. Wopp, “an’ I feel so unsartin ’bout everything. Here we are a pack of Gadarene swine goin’ orff to a great city to eat husks I s’pose like the prodigal son. Never mind Ebenezer we’ll come back right glad I’ll bet to the fatted calf.” She pinched his ear in an elephantine playfulness as though he might be the fatted calf himself. As the evening wore on Mrs. Wopp, Mrs. Stephens and a few other ladies adjourned to a box stall where the refreshments were stored. Pleased with the prospect of dispensing lavish hospitality from the combined larders of the neighborhood, Mrs. Wopp’s face radiated cheerfulness. The child reared without pets was delighted with the animal life about her; the cats, old Bouncer, the white chickens, and pigeons cooing in the loft. Warwick Bro’s & Rutter, Limited, Printers and Bookbinders, Toronto, Canada..
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