THE MAN AROUND THE CORNER.

Otago Witness, Issue 2967, 25 January 1911, Page 90

THE MAN AROUND THE CORNER.

Patrick Flynn, that beater of carpets, cleaner of windows, and handyman for the housewives of Rosecliff, was tied to his chair with an attack of rheumatism. Consequently there was general lamentation in the village, for there was no other man to take, his place : . and working women were equally scarce. "I don't know what you are going to do, Cynthia," signed her sister-in-law, as Cynthia helped her pack a trunk for a short trip to" the mountains. "Patrick promised to come on Monday and help with the cleaning. You know Nora refused to do anything except the regular work, and although I have offered to°give her extra wages for the cleaning, she'doesn't want to touch it. It's dreadful—all the fall cleaning to do, and the Wimbletons coming for Thanksgiving, just as I've broken down!" "Helen Blake !" cried Cynthia, sitting down on the floor and putting her fingers into her pretty ears. "Stop this waiting and gnashing of teeth, or I shall run away myself' Leave the cleaning to me—l 11 find somebody if I have to import a specialist from town! When you come 14-k from the lakes you will find a spotless house, and don't you dare worry an instant. I shall love the job—l m a born boss anyway, you know, only I never had much chance to exercise my ability Mrs "Blake smiled gratefully. 1 don t know what we'd do without you Cynthia d°ar' You are the greatest comfort. Dick and I are selfish enough to wish that you won't get married very soon." . "Perhaps not at all," said Cynthia cheerfully. "Don't worry about such a remote possibility as my falling in love with anvbodv in Rosecliff." "What is the matter with the men m PoseclifT?" Helen ruffled indignantly. Sb a had been born in that suburb. "They are all married—if you 11 stop to think." laughed Cynthia, dodging the pillow Mrs Blake tossed at her. The next morning Cynthia entered the kitchen where Nora was washing the breakfast dishes. Her face, wore an anxious expression. "I don't know what were going to do .about the cleaning, Nora," she began; "I've telephoned from one end of the village to the other, ,an<? everybody else is in "the same fix. I even called up Dr Lane, and he says Patrick may not he able to work for several months, xou

say that you are not strong enough to do* the extra worok, even, with double pay 7" Cynthia rattled her gold mesh bag enticingly. Nora's sturdy shoulder was lifted in a shrug. "I wouldn't be doing it for no money, miss ; I hired to do the cooking and general work. It was understood the cleaning and laundry was to be done out." "Very well, Nora. Don't you know of ■any man, woman, or child who might be hired for love or money to come and help with the house-cleaning at two dollars a day?" Nora pondered deliberately as she piled a tray with clean china-. Then she shook her head doubtfully. "I don't be knowing anybody at all —unless—shure, you might get him." "Who is he?" demanded Cynthia eagerly. "I seen a young man a-working in the yard cf that cottage around the coroner, miss. A strong, hearty feller he is, too. Look at him, now, there—beating rugs like the divil —excuse me, Miss Cynthia. A hard-working, honest-looking young chap!" Nora lifted the shade and nointed a finger into an adjoining yard; there was open admiration in her blue eyes. Cynthia looked, and saw in the overgrown yard of a cottage that had long been untenanted a tall young man, blunt featured, with an unmistakably honest face —a face grimy with the results of honest toil. He was clad in a rough suit of overalls and blouse, and on his feet was a disreputable' pair of tennis shoes. He was tugging a huge basket of rubbish from the back door of the cottage. "How lucky!" cried Cynthia. "I'll speak to him at once. I didn't know the cottage was taken, Nora." "Nor did I, miss, till I saw the man working around there this morning." Nora returned to her dishes, and Cynthia went out into the trimly-kept back-. yard of the Blake residence and went to the low dividing fence. She was a refreshing picture on this crisp autumn morning—her fair face tinged with rose colour and her mist of black hair pinned into some semblance of order. The man m the next yard turned his basket into the ashbin, and for the moment went into the obscurity of the rising cloud of dust. When be emerged it was Cynthia's gentle little sneeze that attracted his attention. He turned and whipped off a battered cap. "Young man," began Cynthia, rather ddffklero%i, ".are you very buisy, Just now?" "Not too busy to Be at your service, ma'am," said the man poHtely. "Thank you," she said. "Patrick Flynn is laid up with rheumatism, and there isn't -a soul to heln with the cleaning, and it must be done this week. Can you wash windows and beat rugs?" "Yes, ma'am," he said. "And clean the cellar and start the furnace, and all those things?" For an instant he hesitated, and then he said: "Yes, ma'am; it isn't exactly in my line, but I'm willing to help you out." "You are very good, indeed," said Cynthia. "We've always paid Patrick two dollars a clay, but if you can come at once I will pay you three." "When shall I come?" he asks* 1 , as he nodded, with some embarrassment. "If you could begin to-day " began Cynthia, more wistfully than she realised. "But suppose you are engaged to clean the cottage first." "I have a couple of weeks to do that in," replied the man, in a business-like tone. "I'll lock the cottage and come right over." Cynthia hurried into the house and enveloped her slender form in a big apron, and pinned a towel over her hair. It was a hor.se-cleaning to be remembered for its thoroughness. The new man, who told Cynthia his name was Grey, worked like a beaver. He beat rugs thoroughly, yet with the care of one who knows the value of the article he handles. He cleaned the floors and waxed and polished them till thsy shone like mirrors. He washed windows, and he cleaned the cellar and whitewashed it, and laid a fire in the furnace, from which he emerged with the face of a coalheaver, but a temper as cheery as it had been every day. Each night Cynthia bad paid his wages into his toil-hardened palm, and her gracious thanks had accompanied the payment. She learned very little about Grey. He spoke like an educated man, and occasionally he dropped a hint that led her to believe 'be might have seen better days ; however, he alwavs covered the hint with some openly ignorant remark that disarmed " any suspicion might otherwise have had concerning hip. Her brother lingered a week in the mountains. When the last bit of work was done, and Grey had polished the brass and irons, and replaced them before the library hearth, (J-nthia drew out her purse and paid him. " I really don't know what I should have clone without you, Grey," she was saying, when the door opened quickly and her brother entered. "Howly, Cynthia, dear?" he said, k:ssing her ; then, starting back, he stared at the grimv figure before him. "For —the— love —of—Mike —what are you doing here, Frazer?" Be made a grab for the other's hand, and clung to it. "Frazer?" repeated Cynthia coldly. "This man told me his name was Grey." She looked disapprovingly at the shamefaced young man before her. "I trusted him," she added, simply. "Grey Frazer, it is—you know his pictures ; sis admired 'em in the magazines no end of times! How in the dickens did you corral him here —in this guise?" Cynthia turned her back while Grey Frazer explained to the amused and shaking Dick that he had leased the cottage around the corner, and in lieu of the service of Patrick Flynn, whom he also had desired, he had set about to clean out the cottage himself.

Then Cynthia had com« to him for help —and Mr Frazer modestly attested that he had never failed a maiden in distress. All the time his eyes were watching Cynthia's back, with Seep trouble in their depths. "I sincerely beg Miss Blake's pardon for the deceit," he said humbly. "My only excuse is that she needed help, and if she had known who I was she might not have accepted my assistance." Cynthia turned an held out a hand. "I am very grateful for your help, Mr Frazer," she murmured demurely. _ "It is an honour to meet such a distinguished artist —and yet an indispensable 'handyman' is lost to the world!" Grey Frazer grinned happily through the grime on his face. "I believe I'll go home and shed this disguise/' he said. "I've earned a day" oft. My car is at the garage down the street—shall we motor this afternoon?" __ Nora heard the invitation, and stared open-eyed. Months afterward, when Cynthia announced to Helen and Dick that she had decided to marry, after all, her sister-in-law smiled. "I am glad you're going to marry the man around the corner, dear. He can come in and do the cleaning every year." "Those were the happiest days in my life," asserted Grey Frazer proudly.