Published by Good Press, 2019

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      EAN 4057664632906

Table of Contents

       ILLUSTRATIONS

       CHAPTER I

       CHAPTER II

       CHAPTER III

       CHAPTER IV

       CHAPTER V

       CHAPTER VI

       CHAPTER VII

       CHAPTER VIII

       CHAPTER IX

       CHAPTER X

       CHAPTER XI

       CHAPTER XII

       CHAPTER XIII

       CHAPTER XIV

       CHAPTER XV

       CHAPTER XVI

       CHAPTER XVII

       CHAPTER XVIII

       CHAPTER XIX

       CHAPTER XX

       CHAPTER XXI

       CHAPTER XXII

       CHAPTER XXIII

       CHAPTER XXIV

       CHAPTER XXV

       CHAPTER XXVI

       THE END

      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

       Table of Contents

      "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

       Table of Contents

      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,