The St. Charles herald. [volume] (Hahnville, La.) 1873-1993, 1919-11-29
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FREAK HOUSE :
BY JACK LAYTON.

lawn to read again the address on
paper she carried. Yes, this was I'M
doubtedly the place she sought "A
freak house. the employment agent
had called it, built in imitation OF
an old matched cottage in Ireland"
These singers are mostly freaks
themselves" the agent added, even
if they do have lots Of money
The woman smiled as she gaZed at
the house and wistful, eager light
came into her eyes. The freak house
was good imitation upon spacious
lines. The low, dropping roof over d
rear fiowerframed doorway brought
back poignantly memory of her own
girlhOod. In such doorway she had
stood, looking down the long road,
over which at evening her handsome
lover lad had been wont to come. She
remembered the musical Tilt of his
voice as he praised the soft blue eyes
of her." or touched adoringly the rose
of her young cheeks.
"They are wild Irish roses, Nance"
her lover would say. Mans roses had
of what they had been. The wonder
land of America where she had come
so hopefully failed to bring fulfillment
of her dreams. Nance had pictured
| easy independence here as she closed
| forever the door of the matched cot
tage upon her desolated home.
The laughing Irish lover lad had
long gone on his fortune-seeking way.
Nance lost her buoyant health in
the great city, us years had taken her
| youths freshness. Work suitable to
her strength was hard to find but
somehow she managed, and her bright
| spirit lived through all the broken
| dreams.
Last evening the advertisement had
caught her eye; she had been sewing
| in hot city room, and the promise
/ of country air and green fields was
| sufficient to form her decision. She
! would answer in person the advertise
ment.
But as she stood there seemed no
| need for hurry in this peaceful
scene. She passed to the rear flower
framed door and raised wooden
knocker. 1t was a uniformed maid
who led her into the comfortable room
of the resigning housekeeper. That
person, after one keen glance, sighed
relievedly.
"At last" she said, 81 see my way
clear to go. You have the appearance
of capability Intelligent. help is al
most impossible to find these days,
especially in this lonely spot. It's all
right for the great folks who go and
come from the city. For servants the
situation is not inviting. Your diff
Guilty will be in keeping cooks and
finding maids. However, that's up to
you. Mr. O'Neil is away from home
so much on his singing tours that you
will probably be able to manage-at
least while he's here"
Nance put out an interrupting hand.
''This is Mr.. O'Neips home?" she
asked unbelievingly. "Not Larry
O'Neil, the Irish tenor?'
The housekeeper nodded.
Didn't you known" she asked. 'Ev-
erybody hereabouts has heard Of his
early Irish home and how when he
made his money he tried to initiate
the matched cottage as we'll as could
be done in grand style. His old
! mother lived with him here till she
died. Mr. O'Neil is a fine man and a
home-loving one too, though none of
those idoliZing women have tempted
him to give up his bachelorhood. He's
home now, as it happens, an has been
troubled about my going He relies
upon me great deal. But my people
need me now. VIII you let me see
your reference, Mrs"
Miss" corrected Nance. "I'm Miss
Nance Bawn. 1 have no reference as
! housekeeper, only as to character. /
hoped if you'd be willing to try me
for few days"
I'm afraid I'll be forced to-" the
housekeeper said obviously, "if l wish
to get away"
She was efficient in her new work
the departing housekeeper with sat
ISldCtlOlI uiSCOstItu llilo Wait bclOlc
the second day of trial was over. The
singers especial sanctum took on an
ineXplicable air Of homeness upon
that second evening. His cigar stand
was just where it should be, and an
Irish ballad lay upon his piano. Idly
he sat and played it through, the
lamplight glinting his silvering hair
when I dream Of old Ireland" he
sang, I'm dreaming of YOU"
A woman stood behind him when he
turned, little woman in sprigged
lavender dress. She was holding
toward him respectfully tray with
a cup of coffee on it. But Larry
O'Neil jumped unbelievingly to his
feet.
Nance" he cried, Nance, dear
after all these years." And when
later the great singer and the happy
woman sat hand clasped In hand the
woman smiled with the old shyness
he remembered so WELL
"And SO, Larry" she said, II decid-
ed not to be drag upon you when
you were finding your wonderful