Belington progressive. [volume] (Belington, W. Va.) 1912-1927, 1921-10-13
TARTS
BY MOLLlE MATHER.

I thc Sluc VI llle Sul-udheu IOdu anu
leaned back, endeavoring to catch the
breeze. This part Of the country was
not unfamiliar to him, for he had lived
here as q boy, returning often in his
young manhood to visit an old friend
or two who remained. But many
years had passed since John, busy in
the building of fortune, had travelled
the roads of yesterday. Few land
, marks still remained; he had almost
forgotten them. His one impatient
wish now was to find the shortest
route back to the city. Important af-
fairs awaited him there, and the pos
sibility of having to spend night in
this hilly isolation was unbearable
Here and there, far back among the
stately trees. some old decaying man
sion showed ghostlike. These homes
i had for the most part been deserted
long ago, or given over to the families
of foreign field laborers, whose dusky
children played up and down the long
driveways of past grandeur. 1t was
surveying job which had called Hamp-
ton from his office in a big city build
ing out to the forSaken byway-for-
saken, except for the touring cars
which went rolling silently upon their
various ways in various quests of
pleasure. The hill route led on to
fairer parts. John Hampton was not
satisfied with the reports his engineers
brought to him. He wanted, literally,
to see "how the land lay" And now,
as he leaned back in his coupe with
the wind lifting the grazing hair on
his forehead, he noted, gratefully, a
neat little sign. It was fastened to
tree nearby, an artistic hewn board
itself. --s.6e-
"Tea served in the garden" he read,
Sandwiches, lemonade and tarts."
John Hampton did not know that 1T
was the tart suggestion which decided
him. But he sprang lightly for all his
increasing weight, down into the road
and turned in at the gate, over which
the sign Haunted. Beneath low=spread-
ing trees, just beyond, was laid tiny
table, and as the hot tired man from
the city sank into the rustic chair,
before the table, young woman came
gracefully toward him. The effect of
her short white ruffled frock was
pleasing, her small white shoes stepped
daintily across the grass. And when
she bent attentively to take his or
der, John Hampton liked the gravity
of her gaze and the wave of her hair
against a pink cheek.
"Tarts?" questioned the young wom-
an with smile
ooh, yes, we have them, with red
currant jelly. They are considered
very nice"
She looked back at him.
II make everything myself"
He sat after she had left him, gazing
| perplexedly up into the loft of green
boughs above. What half-memory
stirred him he could not determine.
1t seemed to be pleasing memory.
and yet The arrival of an inviting
ly arranged tray disturbed his reverie.
The attractive young woman silently
left him to his refreshment. Boyishly
John Hampton left the rest of his
meal, to bite into a tart
"Currant jelly!" 1t was delicious.
| Where and when had he tasted such a
tart? Again the Elusive memory.
There had been nothing just like it In
all the years. He looked back toward
the old crumbling veranda where the
| Whitehead figure sat. An unusual
sense of rest and satisfaction possessed
him.
Lucy Lane had resembled this
dainty ruffled young woman who made
currant tarts and sold them. But Lucy
had been decorous miss of twenty
or more years ago. He recalled pic
ture that she had given him then, its
long dark dress and high-twisted hair
flashed before him. Yet Lucy had
smiled in that grave sweet way. And
Lucy's eyes had been as deep blue
yelled, too. by dark and sweeping
! lashes. Could it be possible that she
had married and this was her daugh-
| ter? He had quite forgotten Lucy Lane
| until the tarts stirred his memory. He
had courted-or played at counting her
in her mothers kitchen, when Lucy,
always busily employed, had rolled out
tarts for the young brothers and sis
tiers and filed them with currant JAM
| The white-clad young woman came,
humming her song, across the lawn.
She stood looking down upon him with
a smile.
us there anything else that you
would like?" she asked him.
YES" John Hampton said impul-
| sively, 'I would like to know your
name. You remind me of some one
| once knew-"
And forgot" added the woman,
quietly. my name is still Lucy Lane"
When my family married and scat
tered 1 came over to this old house of
my uncle's and-began to sell tarts for
a living"
John Hampton leaned forward star
| ing
But he stammered you are the
| same little Lucy. YOU" he laughed,
look ever sweeter to me-"