THE FORTUNES OF
OLIVER HORN




CHAPTER I

THE OLD HOUSE IN KENNEDY SQUARE



Kennedy Square, in the late fifties, was a place of
birds and trees and flowers; of rude stone benches,
sagging arbors smothered in vines, and cool dirt-paths
bordered by sweet-smelling box. Giant magnolias
filled the air with their fragrance, and climbing roses
played hide and seek among the railings of the rotting
fence. Along the shaded walks laughing boys and
girls romped all day, with hoop and ball, attended
by old black mammies in white aprons and gayly colored
bandannas; while in the more secluded corners,
sheltered by protecting shrubs, happy lovers sat and
talked, tired wayfarers rested with hats off, and staid
old gentlemen read by the hour, their noses in their
books.

Outside of all this color, perfume, and old-time