The Prophecy Even when Peter Crane was a baby boy, with eyes the color of the chicory flowers that grow by the wayside along New England roads, and hair that rivaled the Blessed Damosel's in being "yellow like ripe corn," he was of an adventurous disposition. His innocent face was never so devoid of guile, his winning smile never so cherubic as when he remarked that he would "jes' run froo the front gate a minyit," and the next instant he was... more...

INTRODUCTION A hope of immortality and a sense of humor distinguish man from the beasts of the field. A single exception may be made, perhaps, of the Laughing Hyena, and, on the other hand, not every one of the human race possesses the power of laughter. For those who do, this volume is intended. And since there can be nothing humorous about an introduction, there can be small need of a lengthy one. Merely a few explanations of conditions... more...

CHAPTER I A VALENTINE PARTY "It IS a boofy frock, isn't it, Nansome?" Patty craned her head over her shoulder, as she waited for her stepmother's response, which was only, "Yes." "Oh, my gracious, Nan! Enthuse! Don't you know half the fun in life is enthusiasm?" "What shall I say?" asked Nan, laughing. "Oh, say it's a peach! a hummer! a lallapaloosa!" "Patty, Patty! what language!" "Oh, yes; I forgot I meant to stop using slang. But when... more...

CHAPTER I WELCOME HOME “I do think waiting for a steamer is the horridest, pokiest performance in the world! You never know when they’re coming, no matter how much they sight them and signal them and wireless them!” Mrs. Allen was not pettish, and she spoke half laughingly, but she was wearied with her long wait for the Mauretania, in which she expected her daughter, Nan, and, incidentally, Mr. Fairfield and Patty.... more...

CHAPTER I DIFFERENT OPINIONS "Different men are of different opinions; some like apples, some like inions," sang Patty, as she swayed herself idly back and forth in the veranda swing; "but, truly-ooly, Nan," she went on, "I don't care a snipjack. I'm quite ready and willing to go to the White Mountains,—or the Blue or Pink or even Lavender Mountains, if you like." "You're willing, Patty, only because you're so good-natured and unselfish;... more...

CHAPTER I PLANS FOR PATTY The Fairfields were holding a family conclave. As the Fairfield family consisted of only three members, the meeting was not large but it was highly enthusiastic. The discussion was about Patty; and as a consequence, Patty herself was taking a lively part in it. "But you promised me, last year, papa," she said, "that if I graduated from the Oliphant School with honours, I needn't go to school this year." "But I meant... more...

CHAPTER I HER FATHER'S PLAN "How old are you, Patty?" asked her father, abruptly. "Fourteen, papa,—why?" "My conscience! what a great girl you're getting to be. Stand up and let me look at you." Patty Fairfield, with two twists and a spring, brought herself to her feet, and stood awaiting her father's inspection. He saw a slender, graceful girl, a Southern blonde of the purest type. Her pretty golden hair would gladly have hung in... more...

SAM BLANEY   "Patty, Patty, pit-a-pat,  Grinning like a Chessy Cat, if you don't stop looking so everlasting cheerful, I'll throw something at you!" "Throw," returned Patty, as her grin perceptibly and purposely widened to the full extent of her scarlet lips. "All right!" and Elise threw a sofa cushion and another and another, following them up with a knitted afghan, a silk slumber robe, and then beginning on a pile of... more...

CHAPTER I THE DEBATE In Mrs. Elliott's library at Vernondale a great discussion was going on. It was an evening in early December, and the room was bright with firelight and electric light, and merry with the laughter and talk of people who were trying to decide a great and momentous question. For the benefit of those who are not acquainted with Patty Fairfield and her relatives, it may be well to say that Mrs. Elliott was Patty's Aunt Alice,... more...

CHAPTER I WISTARIA PORCH "Oh, Little Billee! Come quick, for goodness' sake! The baby's choking!" Patty was in the sun parlour, her arms full of a fluttering bundle of lace and linen, and her blue eyes wide with dismay at her small daughter's facial contortions. "Only with laughter," Bill reassured her after a quick glance at the restless infant. "Give her to me." The baby nestled comfortably in his big, powerful arms, and Patty sat back in... more...