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The bottle went crash, and a furious yell informed the neighborhood that the Gang was “up to some new deviltry.” DOCTOR CARTER was not in when Billy arrived at his office breathless and hatless. He had not foreseen this. All the way to town his thoughts had raced with his wheel. He had planned how he could tell his story the quickest; had thought of no other ear for his confidence than Doctor Carter’s, the kind, all-understanding physician who had fought valiantly if losingly to save Billy’s father; who had ever since been the most thoughtful of friends as well as the best of physicians. He seemed to Billy the only man to trust with his secret. This was something that could not be told to the best mother in the world, even not considering the fright it would give her; it was quite out of a woman’s world. The last act exhausted the possibilities of the theatre in light effects and sylvan scenery; and the curtain rose on a gorgeous scene. But oh, horror! In the middle of the stage the scene-shifters had left the ugly truck that moved Storm King’s reservoir of ice and snow. When used in previous acts, bed and wheels had been hidden by moss, the tank had been covered by his mantle, and the entire mechanism, moving as he moved, had seemed a part of himself. Now its secret was disclosed and it was ridiculous..
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Conrad
Mrs. Wopp was much too energetically engaged to enter into fuller argument. She busied herself preparing the tubs for rinsing, singing in a high tremolo, “Shall we gather at the river?” “Try agin, Mose, now not too hard! Easy like! There! Jest a leetle bit more! Stop! Hold on! Shucks! Everythink’s went wrong! Here, we’ll start agin.” Her wardrobe was a heavy drain on Edith’s purse, yet the young teacher delighted almost as a mother in the dainty garments that won her to extravagance. “Let’s all go to the parlor, Mar, and hev some music. It isn’t every evenin’ we hev company,” said Mr. Wopp..
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