Eleanor H. Porter
Oh, Money! Money! A Novel
Published by Good Press, 2019
EAN 4057664632906
Table of Contents
ILLUSTRATIONS
CHAPTER IX
I. EXIT MR. STANLEY G. FULTON
II. ENTER MR. JOHN SMITH
III. THE SMALL BOY AT THE KEYHOLE
IV. IN SEARCH OF SOME DATES
V. IN MISS FLORA'S ALBUM
VI. POOR MAGGIE
VII. POOR MAGGIE AND SOME OTHERS
VIII. A SANTA CLAUS HELD UP
IX. "DEAR COUSIN STANLEY"
X. WHAT DOES IT MATTER?
XI. SANTA CLAUS ARRIVES
XII. THE TOYS RATTLE OUT
XIII. THE DANCING BEGINS
XIV. FROM ME TO YOU WITH LOVE
XV. IN SEARCH OF REST
XVI. THE FLY IN THE OINTMENT
XVII. AN AMBASSADOR OF CUPID'S
XVIII. JUST A MATTER OF BEGGING
XIX. STILL OTHER FLIES
XX. FRANKENSTEIN: BEING A LETTER FROM JOHN SMITH TO EDWARD D. NORTON, ATTORNEY AT LAW
XXI. SYMPATHIES MISPLACED
XXII. WITH EVERY JIM A JAMES
XXIII. REFLECTIONS—MIRRORED AND OTHERWISE
XXIV. THAT MISERABLE MONEY
XXV. EXIT MR. JOHN SMITH
XXVI. REENTER MR. STANLEY G. FULTON
ILLUSTRATIONS
"I WAS THINKING—OF MR. STANLEY G. FULTON" Frontispiece
"I CAN'T HELP IT, AUNT MAGGIE. I'VE JUST GOT TO BE AWAY!"
"JIM, YOU'LL HAVE TO COME!"
"AND LOOK INTO THOSE BLESSED CHILDREN'S FACES"
From drawings by Mrs. Howard B. Grose, Jr.
CHAPTER I
EXIT MR. STANLEY G. FULTON
There was a thoughtful frown on the face of the man who was the possessor of twenty million dollars. He was a tall, spare man, with a fringe of reddish-brown hair encircling a bald spot. His blue eyes, fixed just now in a steady gaze upon a row of ponderous law books across the room, were friendly and benevolent in direct contradiction to the bulldog, never-let-go fighting qualities of the square jaw below the firm, rather thin lips.
The lawyer, a youthfully alert man of sixty years, trimly gray as to garb, hair, and mustache, sat idly watching him, yet with eyes that looked so intently that they seemed to listen.
For fully five minutes the two men had been pulling at their cigars in silence when the millionaire spoke.
"Ned, what am I going to do with my money?"
Into the lawyer's listening eyes flashed, for a moment, the keenly scrutinizing glance usually reserved for the witness on the other side. Then quietly came the answer.
"Spend it yourself, I hope—for some years to come, Stanley."
Mr. Stanley G. Fulton was guilty of a shrug and an uplifted eyebrow.
"Thanks. Very pretty, and I appreciate it,