The Dupuyer acantha. [volume] (Dupuyer, Mont.) 1894-1904, 1898-12-08
Seven Johnnies.

Lyndon stood by the window, tear
fully watching a van as it bore away
the last OF the goods belonging to the
family who had lived next door.
Alas, they were to live there no longer!
That was the reason of L%yndon's dole
full face. Reason enough, too, Lyndon
thought. For were not Johnny Hin
man and he the best Of friends? And
now Johnny had gone to a distant part
of the state, and sorrowful Lyndon
never expected to see him again.
perhaps the new neighbors will
make up for the loss of Johnny" said
mamma, comfortingly; but Lyndon re-
fused to be comforted.
81 can get along daytimes," he
whined; "but evenings I shall be so
lonesome"
"You never saw Johnny them"
laughed mamma.
mo, because he went to bed early,
and I couldn't have seen through the
curtains if he hadn't; but l knew he
was inside, and that made the differ
ence."
Lyndon's mamma worked for a
dressmaker downtown, and she was
often obliged to be away evenings.
These were lonesome hours for Lyn-
don. Sometimes he went to bed early,
but usually he would sit at the win
dow, weaving odd fancies about the
passing strangers on the street, or of
the twinkling stars overhead.
For a few dreary days all that met
Lyndon's eyes as he looked out at the
next house were bare, curtainless win
dows and a big placard "To Rent"
Then he spied a tall man and a rosy
checked little woman walking about
the vacant rooms, and the next morn
inc. the placard was gone, and&+he
rightly guessed that the house was
rented. After awhile he saw women,
with mops and pals and brooms, put
ting the rooms in order for the new
tenants, and later some furniture arr
rived, and Lyndon recognized the tall
man as he gave directions about the
disposition of the goods. He wondered
if there were any children, and when
the children began to come he Won
| dered if there were any end to them.
| After considerable counting he made
| out that there were a big boy, a little
boy. and a boy about his own age; a
big girl, little girl, a middling-sized
girl and twin babies. Such a merry
troop as they were!
Lyndon had a sore throat the day
they moved, so he could not &c out
doors, and he watched them from the
window. There was plenty to see.
Men were carrying in beds and tables
and chairs and trunks, the biggest boy
was helping with the smaller articles,
the boy about Lyndon's size was cut
ting up antics on the front terrace and
getting in everyone's way, while the
eldest girl had the other children in
the sitting-room, where she seemed
to have her hands full to keep them
within bounds.
When Lyndon's mamma had gone
back to the dressmaker's, after tea,
and he had washed the cups and
plates, he peeped out to see if there
were lights at the next house. Oh,
Joy! The gas was brilliant and not a
curtain to hide the pictures. He was
not lonely that evening. He could see
the father and mother putting things
in order, and the little ones being I'M
dressed and made ready for bed. He
was SO interested in his new neigh.
bors that he was ,astonished wher
mamma and nine o'clock came. Never
had an evening seemed so short. But
the next afternoon Lyndon babe good
by to his evening sightseeing, for every
curtain was in its place. Still, aftel
tea he could not forbear a look, an(
there were the windows just as the,
had been on the preceding night! No
a curtain was down! Every momen
he expected that somebody would shu
out the pretty pantomimes, but no on
did.
Those were only the first of man.
happy evenings, and as for the days.
why, Lyndon's mamma said that abou
all she heard at her home-comings wa
! what "the Perkins boys said, an
what the Perkins girls" did; for th