Just David | Page 3

Eleanor Hallowell Abbott
net profits
you derive calculated using the method you already use to calculate
your applicable taxes. If you don't derive profits, no royalty is due.
Royalties are payable to "Project Gutenberg Association / Illinois
Benedictine College" within the 60 days following each date you
prepare (or were legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
periodic) tax return.
WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU
DON'T HAVE TO?

The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, scanning
machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty free copyright
licenses, and every other sort of contribution you can think of. Money
should be paid to "Project Gutenberg Association / Illinois Benedictine
College".
*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN
ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END*

JUST DAVID
BY ELEANOR H.{HODGMAN} PORTER
AUTHOR POLLYANNA, MISS BILLY MARRIED, ETC.

TO MY FRIEND Mrs. James Harness

CONTENTS
I. THE MOUNTAIN HOME II. THE TRAIL III. THE VALLEY IV.
TWO LETTERS V. DISCORDS VI. NUISANCES, NECESSARY
AND OTHERWISE VII. "YOU'RE WANTED--YOU'RE WANTED!"
VIII. THE PUZZLING "DOS" AND "DON'TS" IX. JOE X. THE
LADY OF THE ROSES XI. JACK AND JILL XII. ANSWERS THAT
DID NOT ANSWER XIII. A SURPRISE FOR MR. JACK XIV. THE
TOWER WINDOW XV. SECRETS XVI. DAVID'S CASTLE IN
SPAIN XVII. "THE PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER" XVIII. DAVID
TO THE RESCUE XIX. THE UNBEAUTIFUL WORLD XX. THE
UNFAMILIAR WAY XXI. HEAVY HEARTS XXII. AS PERRY
SAW IT XXIII. PUZZLES XXIV. A STORY REMODELED XXV.
THE BEAUTIFUL WORLD

CHAPTER I
THE MOUNTAIN HOME
Far up on the mountain-side stood alone in the clearing. It was roughly
yet warmly built. Behind it jagged cliffs broke the north wind, and

towered gray-white in the sunshine. Before it a tiny expanse of green
sloped gently away to a point where the mountain dropped in another
sharp descent, wooded with scrubby firs and pines. At the left a
footpath led into the cool depths of the forest. But at the right the
mountain fell away again and disclosed to view the picture David loved
the best of all: the far-reaching valley; the silver pool of the lake with
its ribbon of a river flung far out; and above it the grays and greens and
purples of the mountains that climbed one upon another's shoulders
until the topmost thrust their heads into the wide dome of the sky itself.
There was no road, apparently, leading away from the cabin. There was
only the footpath that disappeared into the forest. Neither, anywhere,
was there a house in sight nearer than the white specks far down in the
valley by the river.
Within the shack a wide fireplace dominated one side of the main room.
It was June now, and the ashes lay cold on the hearth; but from the tiny
lean-to in the rear came the smell and the sputter of bacon sizzling over
a blaze. The furnishings of the room were simple, yet, in a way, out of
the common. There were two bunks, a few rude but comfortable chairs,
a table, two music-racks, two violins with their cases, and everywhere
books, and scattered sheets of music. Nowhere was there cushion,
curtain, or knickknack that told of a woman's taste or touch. On the
other hand, neither was there anywhere gun, pelt, or antlered head that
spoke of a man's strength and skill. For decoration there were a
beautiful copy of the Sistine Madonna, several photographs signed with
names well known out in the great world beyond the mountains, and a
festoon of pine cones such as a child might gather and hang.
From the little lean-to kitchen the sound of the sputtering suddenly
ceased, and at the door appeared a pair of dark, wistful eyes.
"Daddy!" called the owner of the eyes.
There was no answer.
"Father, are you there?" called the voice, more insistently.

From one of the bunks came a slight stir and a murmured word. At the
sound the boy at the door leaped softly into the room and hurried to the
bunk in the corner. He was a slender lad with short, crisp curls at his
ears, and the red of perfect health in his cheeks. His hands, slim, long,
and with tapering fingers like a girl's, reached forward eagerly.
"Daddy, come! I've done the bacon all myself, and the potatoes and the
coffee, too. Quick, it's all getting cold!"
Slowly, with the aid of the boy's firm hands, the man pulled himself
half to a sitting posture. His cheeks, like the boy's, were red--but not
with health. His eyes were a little wild, but his voice was low and very
tender, like a caress.
"David--it's my little son David!"
"Of course it's David! Who else should it be?" laughed the boy.
"Come!" And he tugged at the man's hands.
The man rose then, unsteadily, and by
Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code

 / 76
Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.