The Lamar register., 1922-02-08


what the girl would do.
The tangle-haired squatter girl was
the daughter of Jeremiah Hopkins, the
mayor of the Silent City, the leader of
all those who lived in the rows of huts
that ran along the Lehigh Valley
tracks and on down the lakeside.
Uncouth and ignorant were Jere-
miah and his kind, and visitors who
came to the little city of Ithaca agreed
with the towns inhabitants that it
was a shame the law allowed such
blot as the Silent City upon the nat
ural beauty of Cayuga and its majes-
tic surroundings.
POllyop stood shivering, her troubled
gaze searching the lake for boat.
Daddy Hopkins had gone away early
with Wee Jerry, and she always wor-
ried little when they were out. Yet
she knew that the only way to get
the bread, beans and bacon for the
family was for Daddy Hopkins to
defy the law and drag his nets when
ever the game wardens were not
about Without the lake and its hid
den food, 1t would be desolate world
indeed.
Wee Jerry was Polly's five-year-old
brother. and long before he could
walk. he had chosen his fathers big
shoulders upon which to beat his way
through an unfriendly and often hun
cry world. But this same world which
had wizened Jerry had given to Polly
wild beauty, body strong and as
plant as marsh reed.
With a sigh Pollyop turned to the
house. The door was shut against the
storm, and thin curl of smoke
twisted upward from the topplng
chimney, losing itself In the baby
leaves of the willows. The little lines
that had traced the troubled brow
vanished at the sight OF slab of
wood over the door. On II was paint
ed in crude letters: "If your heart Is
loving and kind come right in. II II
amt, scoot on" Pollyop and Granny
Hope had worked a long time to make
this sign, and even longer to nail II
up.
"It1l help the Silent City folks.
Granny" she had said. especially,
n | smile lot at EN-"
She flung open the door and went
In, closing 1t behind her. In one cor
ner CT the kitchen an old woman. so
old that no squatter could remember
her other than aged. sat near the
stove About her shoulders was a
shawl, and its edges were held to-
gether with clawlike fingers.
Munching on bit of hay Mt the
woOd-bor was a lean goat. an old
friend Of Polly Hopkins. Long ago
she had found him, lost In the wilder
ness of the Storm country. and had
brought him to the Silent City.
The shnnty consisted of three rooms.
Back of the kitchen Daddy Hopkins
slept. and In the miserable coop-hole
where Polly had once stored rubbish
Granny Hope stretched out her weary
bones at night. Polly's bed ranged
the kitchen wall and the room had
but bench. two old chairs and
three-legged table to offer In rude hos
pitality.
II wheedled little milk from os-
car. Granny" said the girl. ''Goddy,
but he's gettin' stingyr
She put down the pail. went to the
stove and thrust a piece Of wood into
1t.
woods as wet as hell" she com
p!alned. almost as II she had spoken
to herself.
The old woman stirred and lifted
her withered lids.
Hell amt wet" she muttered. "Its
dry an warm-hot. l mean," and she
shivered. drawing nearer the fire.
"'Tain't like this lakeside"
Granny Hope had been In the Hop
kins' shack since the first winter snow
Her own hut stood on little point
about a quarter of u mile away. In 1t
she had lived alone ever since her hus-
band had gone down in the Big Blow,
a storm that was a tradition In the
settlement, and which only the oldest
inhabitants of the Silent City could
remember
One day Polly had found her sick In
bed and as she had led the forlorp
(Continued on Page Five)