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Mannel Rodd’s round face was very solemn as in two chubby fists he held out a small box containing a number of short knobby specimens. “Not unless you wish to so much that you will not do anything else, Billy. The world needs preachers of the right kind sadly; and the right kind take up the calling reverently, though they know it will bring them small worldly return and much toil.” “How much will you pay fer them fer my missionary box?” bargained the child. “Will four shinin’ new quarters do?”.

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“Well, time is near up younguns; has any one a question to arsk?” “Hev you ever hed a toothache an’ orl at onct it bust an’ stopped achin’? Well, no matter what trouble yer in, jist a sight o’ Betty’s like that.” When Betty returned from school in the afternoon, she beheld snowy billowing apparel on the clothes-line. Mrs. Wopp, being very thrifty in the matter of using up flour and sugar sacks for underwear, had a motley collection of garments suspended by wooden pegs. A night-shirt of Mr. Wopp’s bore the inscription “Three Roses” dimly outlined in pink, while on the southern portion of a pair of more intimate garments could be discerned, fading into palest blue. “Great Western Mills.” The wind was causing a riotous time among the cheerful array of reconstructed sacks, and as Betty ran down the path singing “Twenty froggies went to school,” a sugar sack sleeve of Moses’ shirt embraced a flour sack bosom of his father’s undergarment; and “Pure Cane Sugar“ saluted “Ogiveme’s Mills.” Betty cheerfully performed her task of bringing in the clothes saturated with wind and sunshine. She thought the sweetest smell in the world next to morning-glories and nasturtiums was the smell of clean clothes fresh from the line. “St. Elmo’s lost, Ma,” wailed Maria. “We can’t find him and he’s wandered down the creek.”.