xt7w9g5gbx2x https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7w9g5gbx2x/data/mets.xml Leonard, Mary Finley, 1862- 1914  books b92-254-31805178 English Duffield, : New York : Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Little red chimney  : being the love story of a candy man / by Mary Finley Leonard ; illustrations in silhouette by Katharine Gassaway. text Little red chimney  : being the love story of a candy man / by Mary Finley Leonard ; illustrations in silhouette by Katharine Gassaway. 1914 2002 true xt7w9g5gbx2x section xt7w9g5gbx2x 



The Little Red

Being the Love Story of a Candy Man
     Illustrations in Silhouette by

   New York
Duffield  Company


    Copyrigbt, 1914. by



In which the curtain rises on the Candy Wagon,
and the leading characters are thrown together
in a perfectly logical manner by Fate ........  3

In which the Candy Man walks abroad in cit-
izen's clothes, and is mistaken for a person of
wealth and social importance ................ 15

In which the Little Red Chimney appears on the
horizon, but without a clue to its importance.
In which also the Candy Man has a glimpse
of high life and is foolishly depressed by it.. 25

In which the Candy Man again sees the Grey
Suit, and Virginia continues the story of the
Little Red Chimney ......................... 37

In which the double life of the heroine is ex-
plained, and Augustus McAllister proves an
alibi.                                      46

In which Margaret Elizabeth is discussed at the
Breakfast Table; in which also, later on, she
and Virginia and Uncle Bob talk before the
fire, and in which finally Margaret Elizabeth
seeks consolation by relating to Uncle Bob her
adventure in the park ....................... 56

Shows how the Candy Wagon is visited in be-
half of the Squirrel, and how pride suffers a
  fall; how Miss Bentley turns to Vedantic
  Philosophy to drown her annoyance, and dis-
  covers how hard it is to forget when you
  wish to ..................................... 67

In which the Miser's past history is touched
upon; which shows how his solitude is again
invaded, and how he makes a new friend... 8I

Shows how Miss Bentley and the Reporter take
refuge in a cave, and how, in the course of the
conversation which follows, she hears some-
thing which disposes her to feel more kindly
toward the Candy Man; shows also how Uncle
  Bob proves faithless to his trust and his niece
  finds herself locked out in consequence ..... 9i

In which the Little Red Chimney keeps Festival,
  and the Candy Man receives an unexpected
  invitation........,     .        .      ... ,o6

In which a radical change of atmosphere is at
once noticed; which shows how Miss Bentley
  repents of a too coming-on disposition, and
  lends an ear to the advantages of wealth.... 112

Which shows Miss Bentley recovering from a
fit of what Uncle Bob calls Cantankerousness;
  in which a shipwrecked letter is brought to
  light, and Dr. Prue is called again to visit the
  child of the Park Superintendent............ 125

In which the Candy Man relates his story, and
the Miser comes upon Volume I of the shabby
book with the funny name         .134

Shows how Mrs. Gerrard Pennington, unhappy
and distraught, beseeches Uncle Bob to help
her save Margaret Elizabeth; also how Mr.
Gerrard Pennington comes to the rescue, and
  how in the end his wife submits gracefully
  to the inevitable, which is not so bad after all. I43

In which the Fairy Godmother Society is again
mentioned, among other things .I58


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 .   Frontispiece



VIRGINIA .  . .  . .   .

DR. PRUE . . .


THE MISER   . . .



.  12


. .  58

 .  70

. .  84

  I i6



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George Madden Martin

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In which the curtain rises on the Candy Wagon, and
  the leading characters are thrown together in a
  perfectly logical mannecr by Fate.

    -IJE Candy Wagon stood in its accustomed
T lplace on the Y. M. C. A. corner. The
season was late October, and the leaves from
the old sycamores, in league with the east
wind, after waging a merry war with the jani-
tor all morning, had swept, a triumphant host,
across the broad sidewalk, to lie in heaps of
golden brown along the curb and beneath the
wheels of the Candy Wagon. In the intervals
of trade, never brisk before noon, the Candy
Man had watched the game, taking sides with
the leaves.
  Down the steps of the Y. M. C. A. building
sauntered the Reporter. Perceiving the Candy
Wagon at the curb he paused, scrutinising it
jauntily, through a monocle formed by a
thumb and finger.
  The wagon, freshly emblazoned in legends of
red, yellow and blue which advertised the char-
acter and merits of its wares, stood with its



horseless shafts turned back and upward, in
something of a prayerful attitude. The Re-
porter, advancing, lifted his arms in imitation,
and recited: "Confident that upon investiga-
tion you will find everything as represented,
we remain Yours to command, in fresh war-
paint." He seated himself upon the adjacent
carriage block and grinned widely at the
Candy Man.
  In spite of a former determination to con-
fine his intercourse with the Reporter to strict-
ly business lines, the Candy Man could not
help a responsive grin.
  The representative of the press demanded
chewing gum, and receiving it, proceeded to
remove its threefold wrappings and allow
them to slip through his fingers to the street.
"Women," he said, with seeming irrelevance
and in a tone of defiance, "used to be at the
bottom of everything; now they're on top."
  The Candy Man was quick at putting two
and two together. "I infer you are not in
sympathy with the efforts of the Woman's
Club and the Outdoor League to promote or-
der and cleanliness in our home city," he ob-
served, his eye on the debris so carelessly de-
posited upon the public thoroughfare.



  "Right you are. Your inference is abso-
lutely correct. The foundations of this Ameri-
can Commonwealth are threatened, and the
Evening Record don't stand for it. Life's
made a burden, liberty curtailed, happiness
pursued at the point of the dust-pan. Here is
the Democratic party of the State pledged to
School Suffrage. The Equal Rights Associa-
tion is to meet here next month, and-the mis-
chief is, the pretty ones are taking it up! The
first thing you know the Girl of All Others
will be saying, 'Embrace me, embrace my
cause.' Why, my Cousin Augustus met a regu-
lar peach of a girl at the country club,-visit-
ing at the Gerrard Penningtons', don't you
know, and almost the first question she asked
him was did he believe in equal rights " The
Reporter paused for breath, pushing his
hat back to the farthest limit and regarding
the Candy Man curiously. "It is funny," he
added, "how much you look like my Cousin
Augustus. I wonder now if he could have
been twins, and one stolen by the gypsies  You
don't chance to have been stolen in infancy "
  This innocent question annoyed the Candy
Man, although he ignored it, murmuring some-
thing to the effect that the Reporter's talents



p)ointe(l to the stump. It might have been a
guilty conscience or merely impatience at such
flagrant nonsense, for surely he could not rea-
sonably object to resembling Cousin Augustus.
The Candy NMan was a wvell-enough looking
young fellow in his white jacket and cap, but
nothing to brag of, that he need be haughty
about a likeness to one so far above him in
the social scale, whom in fact he had never
  The Reporter lingered in thoughtful silence
while some westbound transfers purchased re-
freshment, then as a trio of theological stu-
dents paused at the Candy Wagon, he restored
his hat to its normal position and strolled
away. On the Y. M. C. A. corner business
had waked up.
  For some time the Candy Wagon continued
to reap a harvest from the rush of High School
boys and younger children. Morning became
afternoon, the clouds which the east wind had
been industriously beating up gathered in
force, and a fine rain began to fall. The
throng on the street perceptibly lessened; the
Candy Man had leisure once more to look
about him.
  A penetrating mist was veiling everything;



the stone church, the seminary buildings, the
tall apartment houses, the few old residences
not yet crowded out, the drug store, the con-
fectionery-all were softly blurred. The as-
phalt became a grey lake in which all the colour
and movement of the busy street was reflected,
and upon whose bosom the Candy Wagon
seemed afloat. As the Candy Man watched,
gleams of light presently began to pierce the
mist, from a hundred windows, from passing
street cars and cabs, from darting machines
now transformed into strange, double-eyed
demons. It was a scene of enchantment, and
with pleasure he felt himself part of it, as
in his turn he lit up his wagon.
  The traffic officer, whose shrill whistle
sounded continually above the clang of the
trolley cars and the hoarse screams of im-
patient machines, probably viewed the situa-
tion  differently.  Given  slippery  streets,
intersecting car lines, an increasing throng of
vehicles and pedestrians, with a fog growing
denser each moment, and the utmost vigilance
is often helpless to avert an accident. So it
was now.
  The Candy Man did not actually see the
occurrence, but later it developed that an auto-



mobile, in attempting to turn the corner,
skidded, grazing the front of a car which
had stopped to discharge some passengers,
then crashing into a telegraph pole on the op-
posite side of the street. What he did see
was the frightened rush of the crowd to the
sidewalk, and in the rush, a girl, just stepping
from the car, caught and carried forward and
jostled in such a manner that she lost her
footing and fell almost beneath the wheels of
the Candy Wagon, and dangerously near the
hoofs of a huge draught horse, brought by its
driver to a halt in the nick of time.
  The Candy Man was out and at her side in
an instant, assisting her to rise. The panic
swept past them, leaving only a long-legged
child in a red tam, and a sad-faced elderly
man in its wake. The Candy Man had seen
all three before. The wearer of the red tam
was one of the apartment-house children, the
sad man was popularly known to the neigh-
bourhood as the Miser, and the girl, to whose
assistance he had sprung-well, he had seen
her on two previous occasions.
  As she stood in some bewilderment looking
ruefully at the mud on her gloves and skirt,
the merest glance showed her to be the sort


of girl any one might have been glad to help.
  "Thank you, I am not hurt-only rather
shaken," she said in answer to the Candy
  "Here's your bag," announced the long-
legged child, fishing it out of the soggy mass
of leaves beneath the wagon. "And you need
not worry about your skirt.  Take it to
Bauer's just round the corner; they'll clean
it," she added.
  The owner of the bag received it and the
accompanying advice with an adorable smile
in which there was merriment as well as ap-
preciation.  The Miser plucked the Candy
Man by the sleeve and asked if the young lady
did not wish a cab.
  She answered for herself. "Thank you, no;
I am quite all right-only muddy. But was it
a bad accident What happened"
  The Miser crossed the street where the
crowd had gathered, to investigate, and return-
ing reported the chauffeur probably done for.
While he was gone the conductor of the street
car appeared in quest of the names and ad-
dresses of everybody within a radius of ten
blocks. In this way the Candy Man learned
that her name was Bentley. She gave it re-


luctantly, as persons do on such occasions, and
he failed to catch her street and number.
  "I'm very sorry! I suppose there is nothing
one can do " she exclaimed, apropos of the
chauffeur, and the next the Candy Man knew
she was walking away in the mist hand in hand
with the long-legged child.
  "An unusually charming face," the Miser
remarked, raising his umbrella.
  To the sober mind "unusually charming"
would seem a not unworthy compliment, but
the Candy MAan, as he resumed his place in
the wagon, smiled scornfully at what he was
pleased to consider its grotesque inadequacy.
If he had anything better to offer, the
Miser did not stay to hear it, but with a
courteous "good evening" disappeared in his
turn in the mist. An ambulance carried away
the injured man, the crowd dispersed; the re-
mains of the machine were towed away to a
near-by garage. Night fell; the throng grew
less, the rain gathered courage and became a
downpour. There would be little doing in
the way of business to-night.
  As he made ready for early closing the
Candy Man fell to thinking of the girl whose
name was Bentley. Not that the name inter-


ested him save as a means of further identifica-
tion. It was a phrase used by the Reporter
this morning that occurred to him now as pe-
culiarly applicable to her. The Girl of All
Others ! He rolled it as a sweet morsel under
his tongue, undisturbed by the reflection that
such descriptive titles are at present over-
worked-in dreams one has no need to be
  Neither did it strike him as incongruous
that he should have seen her first in the gro-
cery kept by Mr. Simms, who catered to the
needs of such as got their own breakfasts, and
whose boiled ham was becoming famous, be-
cause it was really done. He went back to
the experience, dwelling with pleasure upon
each detail of it, even his annoyance at the
grocer's daughter, who exchanged crochet pat-
terns with the tailor's wife, after the manner
of a French exercise, and ignored him. It
was early and business had not yet begun on
the Y. M. C. A. corner; still he could not wait
forever. The grocer himself, who was attend-
ing to the wants of a lean and hungry-looking
student, had just handed his rolls and smoked
sausage across the counter, with a cheery
"Breakfast is ready, ring the bell," when the


door opened and the Girl of All Others came
  She was tallish, but not very tall, and some-
what slight. She wore a grey suit-the same
which had suffered this afternoon from con-
tact with the street, and a soft felt hat of
the same colour jammed down anyhow on her
bright hair and pinned with a pinkish quill-
or so it looked. The face beneath the bright
hair was- But at this point in his recol-
lections the Candy Man all but lost himself
in a maze of adjectives and adverbs. We
know, at least, how the long-legged child ran
to help, and finally went off hand in hand with
her, and what the Miser said of her, and after
all the best the Candy Man could do was to
go back to the Reporter's phrase.
  He had withdrawn a little behind a stack
of breakfast foods where he could watch her,
wxondering that the clerks did not drop their
several customers without ceremony and fly
to do her bidding.  She stood beside the
counter and made overtures to a large Maltese
cat who reposed there in solemn majesty. Be-
side the Maltese rose a pyramid of canned
goods, and a placard announced, "Of interest
to light house keepers." Upon this her eyes



This page in the original text is blank.


rested in evident surprise. "I didn't know
there were any lighthouses in this part of the
country," she said half aloud.
  The Maltese laid a protesting paw upon her
arm. It was not, however, the absurdity of
her remark, but the cessation of her caresses
he protested against. At the same moment her
eyes met those of the Candy Man, across the
stack of breakfast foods. His were laughing,
and hers were instantly withdrawn. He saw
her colour mounting as she exclaimed, address-
ing the cat, "flow perfectly idiotic !"
  He longed to assure her it was a perfectly
natural mistake, the placard being but an
amateurish affair; but he lacked the courage.
  And then the grocer, having disposed of
another customer, advanced to serve her, and
the grocer's daughter, it seemed, was also at
leisure; and though he would have preferred
to watch the Girl of All Others doing the fam-
ily marketing in a most competent manner,
a thoughtful finger upon her lip, the Candy
Man was forced to attend to his own business.
In selecting a basket of grapes and ordering
them sent to St. Mary's Hospital, he presently
lost sight of her.
  Once since then she had passed his corner


on her way up the street. That was all until
to-night. It seemed probable that she lived
in the neighbourhood. Perhaps the Reporter
would know.
  Just here the recollection that he was a
Candy Man brought him up short. His bright
dreams began to fade. The Girl of All Others
should of course be able to recognise true
worth, even in a Candy Wagon, but such is
the power of convention he was forced to
owvn to himself it was more than possible
she might not. Or if she did, her friends-
  Put these disheartening reflections were cur-
tailed by the sudden appearance of a stout,
grey horse under the conduct of a small boy.
The shafts were lowered, the grey horse placed
between them, and, after a few more prelim-
inaries, the Candy Wagon, Candy Man and
all, were removed from the scene of action,
leaving the Y. M. C. A. corner to the rain
and the fog, the gleaming lights, and the cease-
less clang of the trolley cars.




In which the Candy Man walks abroad in citizen's
   clothes, and is mistaken for a person of wealth
   and social importance.

T LIE Candy Man strolled along a park
     path. The October day was crisp, the
sky the bluest blue, the sunny landscape glow-
ing with autumn's fairest colours. It was a
Sunday morning not many days after the
events of the first chapter, and back in the
city the church bells were ringing for eleven
o'clock service.
  In citizen's clothes, and well-fitting ones at
that, the Candy Man was a presentable young
fellow. If his face seemed at first glance a
trifle stern, this sternness was offset by the
light in his eyes; a steady, purposeful glow,
through which played at the smallest excuse a
humorous twinkle.
  After the ceaseless stir of the Y. M. C. A.
corner, the stillness of the park was most
grateful.  At this hour on Sunday, if he
avoided the golf grounds, it was to all intents
his own. His objective point was a rustic
arbour hung with rose vines and clematis,


where was to be had a view of the river as
it made an abrupt turn around the opposite
hills. Here he might read, or gaze and dream,
as it pleased him, reasonably secure from in-
terruption once he had possession.
  The Candy Man breathed deeply, and smiled
to himself. It was a day to inspire confident
dreams, for the joy of fulfilment was over
the land. Was it the sudden fear that some
other dreamer might be before him, or a sub-
conscious prevision of what actually awaited
him, that caused him to quicken his steps as
he neared the arbour However it may have
been, as he took at a bound the three steps
which led up to it, he came with startling sud-
denness upon Miss Bentley entering from
the other side, her arms full of flowers. Their
eyes met in a flash of recognition which there
was no time to control. She bowed, not un-
graciously, yet distantly, and with a faint puz-
zled frown on her brow, and he, as he lifted
his hat, spoke her name, which, as he was not
supposed to know it, he had no business to do;
then they both laughed at the way in which
they had bounced in at the same moment from
opposite directions.
  With some remark about the delightful day,


the Candy Man, as a gentleman should, tried
to pretend he was merely passing through,
and though it was but a feeble performance,
Miss Bentley should have accepted it with-
out protest, then all would have been well.
Instead, she said, still with that puzzled
half frown, "Don't go, I am only waiting
here a moment for my cousin, who has
stopped at the superintendent's cottage." She
motioned over her shoulder to a vine-covered
dwelling just visible through the trees.
  "Please do not put it in that way," he pro-
tested. "As if your being here did not add
tremendously to my desire to remain. I am
conscious of rushing in most unceremoniously
upon you, and-"
  Hesitating there, hat in hand, his manners
were  disarmingly  frank.  Miss  Bentley
laughed again as she deposited her flowers, a
mass of pink and white cosmos, upon a bench,
and sat down beside them. She seemed will-
ing to have him put it as he liked. She wore
the same grey suit and soft felt hat, jammed
down any way on her bright hair and pinned
with a pinkish quill, and was somehow, more
emphatically than before, the Girl of All



  How could a Candy Man be expected to
know what he was about What wonder that
his next remark should be a hope that she
had suffered no ill effects from the accident
  "None at all, thank you," Miss Bentley re-
plied, and the puzzled expression faded. It
was as if she inwardly exclaimed, "Now I
know !"  "Aunt Eleanor," she added, "was
needlessly alarmed. I seem rather given to
accidents of late." Thus saying she began to
arrange her flowers.
  The Candy Man dropped down on the step
where the view-of Miss Bentley-was most
charming, as she softly laid one bloom upon
another in caressing fashion, her curling
lashes now almost touching her cheek, now
lifted as she looked away to the river, or bent
her gaze upon the occupant of the step.
  "Do you often come here " she asked, add-
ing when he replied that this was the third
time, that she thought he had rather an air
of proprietorship.
  He laughed at this, and explained how he
had set out to pay a visit to a sick boy at
St. Mary's Hospital, but had allowed the glori-
ous day to tempt him to the park.
  Below them on the terraced hillside a guard



sat reading his paper; across the meadow a
few golfers were to be seen against the hori-
zon. All about theni the birds and squirrels
were busily minding their own affairs; above
them smiled the blue, blue sky, and the cousin,
whoever he or she might be, considerately
  Like the shining river their talk flowed on.
Beginning like it as a shallow stream, it broad-
ened and deepened on its way, till presently
fairy godmothers became its theme.
  Miss Bentley was never able to recall what
led up to it. The Candy Man only remem-
bered her face, as, holding a crimson bloom
against her cheek, she smiled down upon him
thoughtfully, and asked him to guess what
she meant to do when some one left her a
fortune. "I have a strange presentiment that
some one is going to," she said.
  "How delightful !" he exclaimed, but did
not hazard a guess, and she continued without
giving him a chance: "I shall establish a
Fairy Godmother Fund, the purpose of which
shall be the distribution of good times; of
pleasures large and small, among people who
have few or none."
  "It sounds," was the Candy MIan's com-



ment, "like the minutes of the first meeting.
Please explain further. How will you select
your beneficiaries "
  "I don't like your word," she objected.
"Beneficiaries and fairy godmothers somehow
do not go together. Still, I see what you
mean, and while I have not as yet worked out
the plan, I'm confident it could be managed.
Suppose we know a poor teacher, for instance,
who has nothing left over from her meagre
salary after the necessary things are provided
for, and who is, we'll say, hungry for grand
opera. We would enclose opera tickets with
a note asking her to go and have a good time,
signed, 'Your Fairy Godmother,' and with a
postscript something like this, 'If you cannot
use them, hand them on to another of my
godchildren.' Don't you think she would ac-
cept them "
  Under the spell of those lovely, serious eyes,
the Candy Man rather thought she would.
  "Of course," Miss Bentley went on, "it must
be a secret society, never mentioned in the
papers, unknown to those you call its benefici-
aries. In this way there will be no occasion
or demand for gratitude. No obligations will



be imposed upon the recipients-that word is
as bad as yours-let's call them godchildren-
and the fairy godmother will have her fun in
giving the good times, without bothering over
whether they are properly grateful."
  "You seem to have a grievance against grat-
itude," said the Candy Man laughing.
  "I have," she owned.
  "There are people who contend that there is
little or-none of it in the world," he added.
  "And I am not sure it was meant there
should be-much of it, I mean. It is an emo-
tion-would you call it an emotion "
  "You might," said the Candy Man.
  "Well, an emotion that turns to dust and
ashes when you try to experience it, or de-
mand it of others," concluded Miss Bentley
with emphasis. "And you needn't laugh," she
  The Candy Man disclaimed any thought of
such a thing. He was profoundly serious. "It
is really a great idea," he said. "A human
agency whose benefits could be received as we
receive those of Nature or Providence-as
  She nodded appreciatively. "You under-



stand." And they were both aware of a sense
of comradeship scarcely justified by the length
of their acquaintance.
  "May I ask your ideas as to the amount of
this fund" he said.
  She considered a moment. "Well, say a
hundred thousand," she suggested.
  "You are expecting a large bequest, then."
  "An income of five thousand would not be
too much," insisted Miss Bentley.   "We
should wish to do bigger things than opera
tickets, you know."
  "There are persons who perhaps need a
fairy godmother, whom money cannot help,"
the Candy Man continued thoughtfully.
"There's an old man-not so old either-a sad
grey man, whom the children on our block
call the Miser. I am not an adept in reading
faces, but I am sure there is nothing mean
in his. It is only sad. I get interested in
people," he added.
  "So do I," cried his companion. "And of
course, you are right. The Fairy Godmother
Society would have to have more than one
department. Naturally opera tickets would
not do your man any good-unless we could
get him to send them."



  They laughed over this clever idea, and the
Candy Man went on to say that there were
lonely people in the world, who, through no
fault of their own, were so circumstanced as
to be cut off from those common human re-
lationships which have much to do with the
flavour of life.
  "I don't quite understand," Miss Bentley
began. But these young persons were not
to be left to settle the affairs of the universe
in one morning. A handkerchief waved in
the distance by a stoutish lady, interrupted.
"There's Cousin Prue," Miss Bentley cried,
springing to her feet.
  Hastily dividing her flowers into two
bunches, she thrust one upon the Candy
Man. "For your sick boy. You won't mind,
as it isn't far. I have so enjoyed talking to
you, Mr. McAllister. I shall hope to see you
soon again. Aunt Eleanor often speaks of
  This sudden descent to the conventional
greatly embarrassed the Candy Man, but he
had no time for a word. Miss Bentley was
off like a flash, across the grass, before he
could collect his scattered wits. He looked
after her, till, in company with the stout lady,



she disappeared from view. Then with a
whimsical expression on his countenance, he
took a leather case from his breast pocket, and
opening it glanced at one of the cards within.
It was as if he doubted his own identity and
wished to be reassured.
  The name engraved on the card was not Mc-
Allister, but Robert Deane Reynolds.




In which the Little Red Chimney appears on the
  horizon, but without a clue to its importance. In
  which also the Candy Man has a glimpse of high
  life and is foolishly depressed by it.

  TARTING from the Y. M. C. A. corner,
L walking up the avenue a block, then turn-
ing south, you came in a few steps to a modest
grey house with a grass plat in front of it, a
freshly reddened brick walk, and flower boxes
in its windows. It was modest, not merely in
the sense of being unpretentious, but also in
that of a restrained propriety. You felt it
to be a dwelling of character, wherein what
should be done to-day, was never put off till
to-morrow; where there was a place for every-
thing and everything in it. Yet mingling with
this propriety was an all-pervading cheer that
appealed strongly to the homeless passerby.
  The grey house presented a gable end to
the street, and stretched a wing comfortably
on either side. In one of these was a glass
door, with "Office Hours io-i," which caused
you to glance again at the sign on the iron
gate: "Dr. Prudence Vandegrift."


  The other ell, which was of one story, had
a double window, before which a rose bush
grew, and when the blinds were up you had
sometimes a glimpse of an opposite window,
indicating that it was but one room deep.
From its roof rose a small chimney that stood
out from all the other chimneys, because, while
they were grey like the house and its slate
roof, it was red.
  Strolling by in a leisure hour the Candy
Man had remarked it and wondered why, and
found himself continuing to wonder. Some-
how that little red chimney took hold on his
imagination.  It was a magical chimney,
poetic, alluring, at once a cheering and a de-
pressing little chimney, for it stirred him to
delicious dreams, which, when they faded, left
him forlorn.
  It was to Virginia he owed enlightenment.
Virginia was the long-legged child who had
fished Miss Bentley's bag from beneath the
Candy Wagon, the indomitable leader of the
Apartment House Pigeons, as the Candy Man
had named them.
  The Apartment House did not exclude chil-
dren, neither did it encourage them, and when
their individual quarters became too con-



tracted to contain their exuberance, they per-
force sought the street. Like pigeons they
would descend in a flock, here, there, every-
where; perching in a blissful row before the
soda fountain in the drug store; or if the
state of the public purse did not warrant this,
the curbstone and the wares of the Candy
Wagon were cheerfully substituted. By vir-
tue no doubt of her long legs and masterful
spirit, Virginia ruled the flock. Under her
guidance they made existence a weariness to
the several janitors on the block.
  As in defiance of law and order they circled
one day on their roller skates, down the ave-
nue and up the broad alley behind the Y. M.
C. A., round and round, Virginia issued her
orders: "You all go on, I want to talk to
the Candy Man."
  Being without as yet any theories, con-
sistently democratic, she regarded him as a
friend and brother.  A state of society in
which the position of Candy Man was next
the throne, would have seemed perfectly logi-
cal to Virginia.
  "You don't look much like Tim," she vol-
unteered, dangling her legs from the carriage
block.  H