The Hardin tribune-herald. [volume] (Hardin, Mont.) 1925-1973, 1935-03-15
BY Me1la Russell McCa1)u,n

lulu N
out the formula for a restorative. the
preparation had won the respect OF the
medical profession, but daddy hadn't
known how to capitalize ON it.
As Nellie looked at her father, her
conscience smote her. He was so frall.
She fastened to divert him. Forrest
always had the most imagination Oh
us all. Do you remember how, When
we were little things, we used to love
to get in your laboratory? I can see it
yet-smen 1t, too. All the mortars ana
spatulas and bottles. And the row of
little dark bottles that held your formu-
Ia medicine. I remember how you i'm
pressed it on us that we mustn't touch
those bottles, because just as soon as
the seal was broken the medicine be-
gan working, and soon after that it
wasn't any good. Forrest got so ex-
cited about it. Remember how he named
IL the magic fluid?' And he fixed up
a formula of his own out of mud and
water, and cured my doll. He'd say,
Madam, your child is dying. There Is
just n chance And he'd uncork the
bottle right over the dolls nose, and
the mud would spill out. Then he'd
make a dramatic gesture, and say,
There, madam-your child will live"
And away he'd 60 to play with some
thing else-while I washed the mud off
the doll"
Daddy Belts was smiling. eyes. Yes,
I can see you all. You were great chill
dren."
Nellie got up, put her arms around
him and kissed the top of his head.
There's only one thing I want be-
fore I die, Nellie. I want you children
to be friends. And unless I can bring
it about shan't rest easy in my
grave"
That winter Daddy Belts failed fast.
He complained, except to say that
he was tired. Nellie cared for him
tenderly, and so did Rita. Daddy Belts
delighted in his 1~7-year-old grand
daughter, and still followed with in
terest her high school activities. Rita
was dark and vivid like her mother,
only softer, as yet untouched by bit
terneSs.
At Christmas, Forrest sent his father
a ring with a square green stone Nellie
sighed about the ring. Forrest hadn't
sent his share of Daddy's board money
for ages. Rods Christmas present was
an extra five dollars, which came in
handy but which, in Nellie's opinion,
might just as easily have been ten.
The basement of the Cooper house
was a comfortable place containing the
dining room, kitchen, and Daddy Belts
snug bedroom. He never left that floor
except on Sunday afternoons when
John Cooper carried him up to the
parlor so that Rita could play the piano
for him.
Rita didn't play as we'll as Forrest,
who had taken a lesson in his
life. When Forrest came home he made
the old piano ring. There was one piece
Of Forests that daddy liked particu-
larly, the overture to The Merry Wives
of Windsor. He used to sit near the
piano when Forrest played the Merry
Wives, and watch the long, quick fin
gers sWoop over the KEYBOARD, now in
delicate bits of melody that made you
smile, now in gorgeous crashes that
sent shivers through the old house.
Rita couldn't play like that-but daddy
never made comparisons.
When five o'clock came, and it was
time for John Cooper to go to work,
he would carry Daddy Belts downstairs
again. John Cooper was night engineer
in a big loop building; a Silent, static
man, whose inability to get up in the
world had given him a protective
veneer of harshness.
o o
In January Daddy Belts suffered a
Second ctrNl-a nf ,o,oI,,e;, o.l l:zJ
quite suddenly, before his sons could
arrive.
Rodney Belts and his colorless wife,
Ina, came next morning from their
home in Flint, Michigan. They kissed
Nellie, and the women cried a little.
Nellie helped Ina off with her new
beaver coat, and showed them a vacant
room on the second floor. Ina, who said
She hadn't slept a wink on the train,
went right to bed. Rod installed him.
self as master of ceremonies. He was
a building contractor, a sturdily framed
man with a poker face. No one knew
how much he was worth. He and Ina
had no children.
There were flower deliveries and
callers that morning. It touched Nellie
to know that in that poor and tran
sient neighborhood her father had
made friends. Her roomers had dubbed
together and sent a spray of carna-
lions and lilies. The doorbell rang so
many times she wondered if John was
able to sleep. Several kilograms came,
and a floral offering from daddy's old
medical association in Michigan. Rod
handled everything with quiet eff
cheney. She found herself admiring Rod.
Then she remembered how he had
never sent a penny more than neces-
sary toward daddy's expenses, had
never offered to make up Forests
deficit.
Forrest Ardmore, born Belts, young
est of the three children, arrived later
n the forenoon, with a debonair smile