"But a city as big as Branton Hills _has_ a lapidary, I trust!"
"Oh, Branton Hills has a lot of things. But, wait a bit! It ain't a
lavatory what you want, is it?"
But at this instant, to old Pat's salvation, Kathlyn, passing by,
said:--
"All right, Pat. I know about this;" and, both taking a taxi, old Pat
walking round and round, scratching his bald crown, was murmuring:
"Lapid----Aho! I got it! It's probably a crittur up at that zoo! I
ain't forgot that hop, skip and jump, walloping Australian tornado! And
now His Honor has put in a lapidary!! I think I'll go up with that old
canvas bag! But why all sich high-brow stuff in naming critturs? This
lapidary thing might turn out only a rat, or a goofy bug!"
But that _fairy_ bug, Dan Cupid, goofy or not, as you wish, was
buzzing around again; and, though this story is not of wild, romantic
infatuations, in which rival villains fight for a fair lady's hand, I
am bound to say that Cupid has put on an act varying _much_ from his
works in Gadsby's mansion; for _this_ arrow from his bow caught two
young folks to whom a dollar bill was as long, broad and high as City
Hall. Both had to work for a living; but by saving a bit, off and on,
Sarah Young, who, you know, with Priscilla Standish first thought of
our Night School, and Paul Johnson, who did odd jobs around town, such
as caring for lawns, painting and "man-of-all-work," had put by a small
bank account. Paul was an orphan, as was Sarah, who had grown up with
a kindly old man, Tom Young; his "old woman," dying at about Sarah's
fourth birthday. (That word "old woman," is common amongst Irish folks,
and is not at all ungracious. It _had_ to crawl into this story,
through orthographical taboos, you know.) But Sarah, now a grown young
lady, had that natural longing for a spot in which a woman might find
that joy of living, in having "things to do for just us two" if bound
by Cupid's gift--matrimony.
Many a day in passing that big church of Nancy's grand display, or
Gadsby's rich mansion, Sarah had thought fondly about such things; for,
as with any girl, marrying amidst blossoms, glamour and organ music was
a goal, to attain which was actual bliss. But such rituals call for
cash; and lots of it, too. Also, Old Tom Young had no room in any way
fit for such an occasion.
So Sarah would walk past, possibly a bit sad, but looking forward to
a coming happy day. And it wasn't so far off. My, no! As Nancy had
thought April was "a million months long," Sarah's days swung past in a
dizzy whirl; during which, in company with Paul on Saturday nights, a
small thing or two was happily bought for that "Cupid's Coop," as both
found a lot of fun in calling it. But Sarah naturally had girl chums,
just as Nancy and Kathlyn had; for most of that old Organization was
still in town; and many a gift found its way to this girl who, though
poor in worldly goods, was as rich as old King Midas in a bright, happy
disposition; for anybody who didn't know that magic captivation of
Sarah Young's laugh, that rich crown of light, fluffy hair, or that
grand, proud, upright walk, wasn't amongst Branton Hills' population.
Paul, scratching around shady paths, a potato patch or two, front
yards, back yards, and city parks, was known to many an old family man;
who upon knowing of his coming variation in living conditions, thought
way, way back to his own romantic youth; so Paul, going to Sarah at
night, brought small but practical gifts for that "coop."
As Sarah and Paul stood in front of City Hall on a hot July night,
Sarah scanning Branton Hills' "Post" for "vacant rooms," who should
walk up but His Honor! And that kindly hand shot out with:--
"Aha! If it isn't Paul and Sarah! What's Sarah hunting for, Paul?"
"Sarah is looking for a room for us, sir."
"_Us_? Did you say 'us'? Oho! H-mmm! I'm on! How soon will you want it?"
"Oh," said Sarah, blushing, "not for about a month."
"But," said His Honor, "you shouldn't start out in _a_ room. You would
want from four to six I should think."