The House of Happy Hours 



By Susie BouchelU Wight 



Chapter II — Continued. 



JT is Japanesque, my boy," said his 

 mother. 



^^I don't see any fans and parasols 

 and things/' he grumbled, looking about. 



"^0, but you see the carrying out of the 

 J apanese idea of not crowding their rooms 

 with furniture,'' she answered. 



They entered the little sitting-room. 

 The floors were bare and white, with a very 

 few rugs, ^^ot many pictures were on the 

 walls, only two or three engravings simply 

 framed, and some good photographs. But 

 the low pine table under the hanging lamp 

 was covered with a pretty cloth, and piled 

 with magazines, papers and books. Mrs. 

 Waring's work-basket was close by the side 

 of a low chair, and gave a touch of home- 

 likeness to the simple little room. She 

 sat down, and took golden-haired Alice 

 on her lap. 



"I have a new game to propose," she said 

 brightly. The children clustered close 

 around her 



''All right! All right!" they cried. 

 - "I see something beautiful in this room. 

 What is it?" 



"Sure I don't know !" grumbled ^N'ed. 

 "Oh, yes I do," he said, as his glance fell 

 on the baby. "It's Alice." 



Then came a shrill chorus from the 

 younger children. "It's mother !" echoed 

 by Mr. Waring, "Yes, it's mother". 



"'Guess again", she said, laughing. 



They guessed again, pictures, books, and 

 the views from the windows, discovering 

 for themselves attractions they had not ob- 

 served at first glance, only to be met with a 

 negative. 



"All beautiful, but not just what I had 

 in mind when I asked the question. Can't 

 you tell the children, Gilbert ?" she asked. 

 "I think from your queer little smile that 

 you have my thoughts." 



"I believe you mean that its cleanness 

 is beautiful," he replied. 



"Yes," she prompted, "and what next ?" 



"It is beautiful because it accords with 

 our circumstances," he continued, with a 

 look at Ned. That astute young person 

 understood and colored slightly. "And the 

 loveliest of all is, that we all love one an- 

 other." 



"Exactly", said Mrs. Waring, -delighted 

 that her husband had entered so fully into 

 her spirit. "And more, dear Gilbert," she 

 added, "hope and good health are ours, so 

 we are not ruined. We can truly begin 

 again." 



His face had brightened wonderfully as 

 the sincerity of her sunshiny spirit dawned 

 upon him, and she felt repaid for every 

 effort, every swallowed sob, every tear 

 forced sternly back, while trying to make 

 the best of a little, in their changed envi- 

 ronment. 



Chapter III. 



They lived very simply in the new little 

 House of Happy Hours. They were cut 

 off from such social life as they had known 

 in their old home, but both were rather 

 glad of this than otherwise. Mrs. Waring 

 had more time, and with the little feet to 

 save her many steps, she did not find it 

 irksome to prepare their dainty meals with 

 her own hands, choosing to economize in 

 this way, that she might have the money 

 thus saved to devote to the carrying out 

 of the many ideas which came crowding 

 on one another's heels. Her despair had 

 taken wings, when she set her face reso- 

 lutely toward the living of a beautiful life 

 for love's sake, ^v'ext to the creating of 

 that home atmosphere on which her heart 

 was set, was her determination not to 

 allow herself to fall into habits of thought 

 and life which she had always condemned. 



She inveigled her son, N"ed, into helping 

 her with many small improvements in the 

 appearance of the place. One day while 

 he was whitewashing the fence, another 

 boy, Billy Conway, stopped in the road for 



