Produced by Sandra Laythorpe  HTML version by Al HainesNutties FatherbyCharlotte M YongeCONTENTS       I  ST AMBROSES CHOIR      II  MONKS HORTON     III  HEIR HUNTING      IV  A NAME       V  SUSPENSE      VI  THE WATERSOLDIER     VII  THAT MAN    VIII  THE FATHER      IX  NEW PLUMES       X  BRIDGEFIELD EGREMONT      XI  LAWNTENNIS     XII  OUT OF WORK    XIII  DETRIMENTALS     XIV  GOING AGEE      XV  A CASTLE OF UMBRELLAS     XVI  INFRA DIG    XVII  AN OLD FRIEND   XVIII  A FRIEND IN NEED     XIX  THE VORTEX      XX  WOLF     XXI  URSULAS RECEPTION    XXII  DISENCHANTMENT   XXIII  A FAILURE    XXIV  FARMS OR UMBRELLAS     XXV  THE GIGGLING SCOTCH GIRL    XXVI  THREE YEARS LATER   XXVII  THE BOY OF EGREMONT  XXVIII  A BRAVE HEART    XXIX  A FRESH START     XXX  NUTTIES PROSPECTS    XXXI  SPES NON FRACTA   XXXII  BLACKS IN THE ASCENDANT  XXXIII  THE LOST HEIR   XXXIV  FETTERS RENT    XXXV  THE HULL OF THE URSULA   XXXVI  NUTTIES KNIGHT  XXXVII  FOUND AND TAKEN XXXVIII  THE UMBRELLA MAN   XXXIX  ANNAPLES AMBITION FALLENCHAPTER IST AMBROSES CHOIR  For be it known  That their saints honour is their ownSCOTTThe town of Micklethwayte was rising and thriving  There weresalubrious springs which an enterprising doctor had lately brought intonotice  The firm of Greenleaf and Dutton manufactured umbrellas inlarge quantities from the stout weatherproof family roof down to thedaintiest fringed toy of a parasol  There were a Guild Hall and ahandsome Corn Market  There was a Modern School for the boys and aHigh School for the girls and a School of Art and a School ofCookery and National Schools and a British School and a BoardSchool also churches of every height chapels of every denominationand iron mission rooms budding out in hopes to be replaced by churchesLike one of the animals which zoologists call radiated the town wasconstantly stretching out fresh arms along country roads all livingand working and gradually absorbing the open spaces between  One ofthese arms was known as St Ambroses Road in right of the church anincomplete structure in yellow brick consisting of a handsome chancelthe stump of a tower and one aisle just weathertight and usable butby its very aspect begging for the completion of the beautiful designthat was suspended above the almsboxIt was the evening of a summer day which had been very hot  The choirpractice was just over and the boys came out trooping and chatteringvery small ones they were for as soon as they began to sing tolerablythey were sure to try to get into the choir of the old church whichhad a foundation that fed clothed taught and finally apprenticedthem  So though the little fellows were clad in surplices andcassocks and sat in the chancel for correctness sake there was aspace round the harmonium reserved for the more trustworthy band ofgirls and young women who came forth next followed by four or fivemechanicsBehind came the nucleus of the choira slim fairhaired youth oftwenty a neat precise welltrimmed man closely shaven withstooping shoulders at least fifteen years older with a black poodleat his heels as well shorn as his master newly risen from lyingoutside the church door a gentle somewhat drooping lady in black notyet middleaged and very pretty a small eager unformed blackeyedgirl who could hardly keep back her words for the outside of thechurch door a tall selfpossessed handsome woman with a fineclassical cast of features and lastly a brownfaced wiry hardworkingclergyman without an atom of superfluous flesh but with an air ofgreat energyOh vicar where are we to go was the question so eager to breakforthNot to the Crystal Palace Nuttie  The funds wont bear it  MrDutton says we must spend as little as possible on locomotionIm sure I dont care for the Crystal Palace  A trumpery tinselplace all shamsHush hush my dear not so loud said the quiet lady but Nuttieonly wriggled her shoulders though her voice was a trifle lowered Ifit were the British Museum now or Westminster AbbeyOr the Alps chimed in a quieter voice or the UfizziNow Mr Dutton thats not what I want  Our people arent ready forthat but what they have let it be real  Miss Mary dont you see whatI meanRather better than Miss Egremont herself said Mr DuttonWell said the vicar interposing in the wordy war Mrs Greenleafschildren have scarlatina so we cant go to Horton Bishop  The choiceseems to be between South Beach and Monks HortonThats no harm cried Nuttie Mrs Greenleaf is so patronisingAnd both that and South Beach are so stale said the youthAs if the dear sea could ever be stale cried the young girlI thought Monks Horton was forbidden ground said Miss MarySo it was with the last regime said the vicar but now the newpeople are come I expect great things from them  I hear they are veryfriendlyI expect nothing from them said Nuttie so sententiously that all herhearers laughed and asked her exquisite reason as Mr Dutton put itLady Kirkaldy and a whole lot of them came into the School of ArtAnd didnt appreciate Head