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Jean changed the situation by proposing a toast to Billy’s new sister. The words were hardly out of his mouth when the sound of an approaching team was heard. Betty eyed ruefully the silk shawl she had flung on the ground. “Don’t sit there wool-gatherin’ anyways, Mose, or the moths’ll nest in yer head. Ef you carn’t sing in toon, you kin bring up a cup of tea fer Miss Gordon an’ Mr. Eliot, an’ don’t fergit Betty an’ yer Mar.”.
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Conrad
Behind the two women trotted a chubby baby. “I see Billy boat,” he cried, shrilly, stumbled, fell, scrambled up again, and repeated his refrain. What matter if the telegraph poles that were to be just twelve feet—that is, twelve inches—fell short or long sometimes. Through the open door could be heard the strains of “Pull for the shore” sung with heart and soul by the intermediate class, and to that lively air Moses made for the exit as expeditiously as his sodden garments would allow. The quaint words seemed incongruous for so small a child, as did her self-control; and the accent on the last syllable of “mama” made her seem almost foreign to Billy. Yet he admired her anew as she tried to hold still her trembling lips, to restrain her tears; as she threw up her head, winked hard, and felt vainly for a handkerchief..
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