In Happy Valley

In Happy Valley, by John Fox,
Illustrated by

The Project Gutenberg eBook, In Happy Valley, by John Fox,
Illustrated by F. C. Yohn
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

Title: In Happy Valley
Author: John Fox

Release Date: January 5, 2007 [eBook #20292]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN HAPPY
VALLEY***
E-text prepared by Justin Gillbank and the Project Gutenberg Online
Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net/c/)

Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which
includes the original illustrations. See 20292-h.htm or 20292-h.zip:
(http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/0/2/9/20292/20292-h/20292-h.htm) or
(http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/0/2/9/20292/20292-h.zip)

IN HAPPY VALLEY
by
John Fox, Jr.
Illustrated By F. C. Yohn

New York Charles Scribner's Sons 1917 Copyright, 1916, 1917, by
Charles Scribner's Sons Published October, 1917 Copyright, 1905,
1906, By P. F. Collier & Son, Incorporated

To Hope, Little Daughter of Richard Harding Davis.

CONTENTS
The Courtship of Allaphair
The Compact of Christopher
The Lord's Own Level
The Marquise of Queensberry
His Last Christmas Gift
The Angel from Viper

The Pope of the Big Sandy
The Goddess of Happy Valley
The Battle-Prayer of Parson Small
The Christmas Tree on Pigeon

ILLUSTRATIONS
"You stay hyeh with the baby," he said quietly, "an' I'll take yo' meal
home."
"You got him down!" she cried. "Jump on him an' stomp him!"
"Mammy," he said abruptly, "I'll stop drinkin' if you will."
"Let 'em loose!" he yelled. "Git at it, boys! Go fer him,
Ham--whoop-ee-ee!"
"Miss Hildy, Jeems Henery is the bigges' liar on Viper."
"I'm a-goin' to give it back to 'em. Churches, schools, libraries,
hospitals, good roads."
Night and day, and through wind and storm, she had travelled the hills,
healing the sick.
"O Lawd ... hyeh's another who meddles with thy servant and profanes
thy day."

THE COURTSHIP OF ALLAPHAIR
Preaching at the open-air meeting-house was just over and the citizens
of Happy Valley were pouring out of the benched enclosure within
living walls of rhododendron. Men, women, children, babes in arms

mounted horse or mule or strolled in family groups homeward up or
down the dusty road. Youths and maids paired off, dallying behind.
Emerged last one rich, dark, buxom girl alone. Twenty yards down the
road two young mountaineers were squatted in the shade whittling, and
to one she nodded. The other was a stranger--one Jay Dawn--and the
stare he gave her was not only bold but impudent.
"Who's goin' home with that gal?" she heard him ask.
"Nobody," was the answer; "that gal al'ays goes home alone." She
heard his snort of incredulity.
"Well, I'm goin' with her right now." The other man caught his arm.
"No, you ain't"--and she heard no more.
Athwart the wooded spur she strode like a man. Her full cheeks and
lips were red and her black, straight hair showed Indian blood, of which
she was not ashamed. On top of the spur a lank youth with yellow hair
stood in the path.
"How-dye, Allaphair!" he called uneasily, while she was yet some
yards away.
"How-dye!" she said unsmiling and striding on toward him with level
eyes.
"Allaphair," he pleaded quickly, "lemme----"
"Git out o' my way, Jim Spurgill." The boy stepped quickly from the
path and she swept past him.
"Allaphair, lemme walk home with ye." The girl neither answered nor
turned her head, though she heard his footsteps behind her.
"Allaphair, uh, Allaphair, please lemme--" He broke off abruptly and
sprang behind a tree, for Allaphair's ungentle ways were widely known.
The girl had stooped for a stone and was wheeling with it in her hand.
Gingerly the boy poked his head out from behind the tree, prepared to

dodge.
"You're wuss'n a she-wolf in sucklin' time," he grumbled, and the girl
did not seem displeased. Indeed, there was a grim smile on her scarlet
lips when she dropped the stone and stalked on. It was almost an hour
before she crossed a foot-log and took the level sandy curve about a
little bluff, whence she could see the two-roomed log cabin that was
home. There were flowers in the little yard and morning-glories
covered the small porch, for, boyish as she was, she loved flowers and
growing things. A shrill cry of welcome greeted her at the gate, and she
swept the baby sister toddling toward her high above her head, fondled
her in her arms, and stopped on the threshold. Within was another man,
slight and pale and a stranger.
"This is the new school-teacher, Allaphair," said her mother. "He calls
hisself Iry Combs."
"How-dye!" said the girl,