Photoplay (Feb - Jun 1921)

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The quaint story of a boy to whom romance was the onlv reality SENTIMENTAL "He s dreamy in his eyes with a way of lookin past ye. as if he could see something that s na there. TOMMY By LULIETTE BRYANT TO ilif stranger's eye the inhabitants of Thrums were as dour and unimaginative as the village itself — a huddle of i in] iain ted cottages, edging a narrow street which climbed from the smithy in the hollow to Double Dykes, an old, walled-in farm at the top ot the pitch. But the heart of Thrums could open, when need arose, and it had opened now to the two bairns of Jean* Myles, just brought from London-town by Aaron l.atta — the broken wreck of a man whom Jean had jilted when she rode away so fine and grand with the masterful Londoner, a dozen years ago. They had buried poor Jean Myles — her married name was Sandys, but what was that to Thrums? — in the bleak little cemetery on the hill, with all due and decent reverence. And now the thoughts of the village, especially of the womenfolk, centered on the orphaned children. "Losh! To think of Jean Myles writin' all these years to Esther Auld of her grand mansion and her carriages and her servants and her bairns dressed in velvets. I'm thinkin' she fooled us a' fine! An' all the time she was starvin' and slavin' to keep body and soul t'gether, but she would na' let on to onybody." "Ye ken how she said when she rode away after her weddin'. If ever I come back, it'll be in a carriage and pair!'.-' Weel, she's keepit her word, poor lassie!" "I'm thinkin' we blamed Jean too much. Aaron Latta did shame and disgrace himself and her that night at the Cuttle Well. Xot one o' us would 'a' had 'im, after that. And Jean was a proud un!" "She was. But she needna have gone so far as to flout off wi' the man that shamed Aaron. Aweel, she made her bed — and died in't. And them 'at's gone canna be brocht back. But Thrums '11 do what's richt by her bairns, if Aaron Latta '11 no be too dour wi' visitors." "He's lived alone ovver muckle, has Aaron. He'll be more like a man now, with the two of them beside him. The lassie is bonny to look at — Elspeth she's called. But the lad's not ower good lookin'. He's dreamy in his eves with a way of lookin* past ye as if he could see something that's na there." And while the women talked, the two little strangers, hand in hand, came out from Aaron Latta's cottage and started on the first, brave adventure of their new life. To glance at them casually one would have thought they were simply two children, dressed in black, rather shy and awkward, setting out for a walk through a dirty little village. But a close observer would have noted that their faces were flushed, their breathing a little quickened, as with excitement, and their eyes round and shining with anticipation. All their lives had been spent in the meanest portion of London, in want and misery and dirt. All their lives had their mother told them of Thrums — wonderful, bewitching Thrums, where the lamps were lit by a magician called Leeriedeerie-licht-the-lamps; where the merest children were allowed to set spinning wheels awhirling; where the stairs were so fine that the houses wore them outside for show; where you dropped a pail at the end of a rope down a well and sometimes it came up full of water and sometimes full of fairies! And now their eves would see the glory! They had gone but a little way when the first shadow fell on Elspeth's face. "Tommy," she quavered, catching his hand closer, "where are the beauty stairs as is wore outside for show:-"' Tommy's eyes rested only a moment on the narrow, unpainted stairs that climbed untidily up the sides of the drab buildings. "They're beauties!" he said, firmly. "We ain't used to such grand sights, that's all!" "I — I thought it would be bonnier," half sobbed Elspeth. "Wait till you sec the square, and the town-house, and the Auld Lulu Church," counselled Tommy, hurrying her along, llis own eves were blank with disappointment as they hurried down the shabby street where women in short gowns came to their doors and men sat down on their barrows to gaze at Jean Myles' bairns, but his lips were set in an unflinching smile. 31