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What delightfully busy and secret evenings Betty spent in the kitchen with Mrs. Wopp helping and expostulating! What dismal sighs from Moses who, like the Marchioness, cooled his eye at the keyhole! His sighs penetrated through the said keyhole and almost softened the obdurate Betty; but, alas, his eavesdropping ended only in whetting the edge of his curiosity! What yelps from Jethro when Moses trod on his foot in headlong flight from the door as his mother approached! What copious notes written by Ebenezer Wopp on the whispering and conspiracies in the kitchen! And then again what sweeping up and burning of cardboard, what hunting through old newspapers and magazines, and what clicking of scissors while a small pair of jaws worked simultaneously! What gorgeous hues from the paint-box as Betty mixed her colors and painted innumerable pictures cut from the magazines! Animals, birds, flowers! Gay as color could make them! A veritable garden and zoo turned loose in the kitchen! “St. Elmo’s lost, Ma,” wailed Maria. “We can’t find him and he’s wandered down the creek.” CHAPTER XII THE CIRCUS.

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“Yes; but I’m afraid my papa’s dead, he’s been gone so long.” How she hated that word “kid.” “Billy! My—boy!” Mrs. Bennett bent over him; and he felt a tear where her cheek touched his. “That’s good enough for me, then,” he said, sleepily. And no one ever heard him mention again his unexpected addition to the scene. BILLY did not lift his face from the pillow; he was striving to steady throat and voice..