












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 the little shack 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