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“Yes; and we’ll have to train the dogs,— Whoopee! Only four weeks of school. We’ll have to hurry if we do the circus and “Lady of the Lake” both before vacation.”,
“What else did they do ’sides dancing, Betty?” questioned St. Elmo.,
“Oh, Lord,” prayed Betty, “it was Murf Bliggins as throwed the stone, please don’t fergit. Make Jethro’s foot better. Mar allers says, ‘arsk an’ it’ll be given.’ All I arsk is fer Jethro’s foot. He is so l’il, Oh, Lord, an’ the stone was so big. An’ don’t fergit it was Murf Bliggins as done it. Please put it in Miss Gordon’s heart to smite the Philistones with the edge of the sword. Mebbe you could put it inter Mar’s heart to buy Mose a pair of pants that won’t be so hard on him, Oh, Lord. Amen!”,
Job’s feathers that to Betty’s eyes had taken on the glory of ostrich plumes, drooped disconsolately, while Moses denounced in fluent language the stupidity of the fowl that had caused the unfortunate episode. He declared loudly that he would like to wring the aggressive portions of those feathered culprits. The group stood for a moment, a miniature Vesuvius erupting lava and ashes, while Moses wrung the offending liquid from Betty’s yellow drape and the magenta antimacassar. His sense of the ludicrous however overcame his wrath, “My Eye Betty!” he cried, “I near kerlapse every time I draw up my curtings on Job.”
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They were a happy lot. Each held some high-sounding position, the name coined in Billy’s busy brain. His box of abused tools came forth; the much mended wheelbarrow, picks, shovels wobbly from use as well as abuse, improvised things that only an imagination as large as Billy’s could have named tools,—something for each one there.,
To-day his mother’s words had left a pang. He would soon be a man and have to “think for himself.” Yes, and work, too. “Gee whiz! It’ll be tough not to play any more,” he exclaimed under his breath as he bowled along the tree-lined road that led to the Prettyman farm.,
“Of course they won’t be too tired! The kids have pluck.”,
A mile or two down the creek the searching party sought diligently for the little lost boy. Moses was in the lead. He had announced his adamant resolve to find St. Elmo, or perform the irrevocable feat of “bustin’.” He cherished an idea of his own as to the child’s whereabouts. A few weeks previously, on an all-day excursion, Moses had played pirates with St. Elmo and they had utilized a most delectable earthy cave for their game.
“Your mamma said I was to ask no questions, and I shall obey; but I do wish I knew how I could help you.” She touched the bandage that bound his head. “Does it hurt you awfully much, Billy? I’m so sorry. My eyes ache me, too, for looking at you.”
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“Now Moses,” she called at the end of the third verse, “git the water for the rinsin’.” The clanking lessened and slowly died down to a complaining rumble. It might have been some monster suffering from indigestion.
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1jh5x-Wong,
It’s a Quan-Yuan
Mrs. Bennett caught the despair in his words, and knew this could be no ordinary trouble to be petted away with a few caresses. Some crisis had come that must be wisely met. She entered, knelt by the bed, and put her arms around him. The spring starlight dimly outlined his head on the pillow but gave no hint of its bruises. “Billy, dear, nothing you can ever do will be bad enough to keep your mother away from you. What is it, my son?”
7waey-Xu,
Bingbing-Li
While Betty, mounted on a bench in the shed, was getting down her watering-can, Job, who during the afternoon had searched diligently but vainly for her, rounded the corner of the garden fence. He noted the open gate and sped towards it. As he entered the garden his eye fell on St. Elmo who stood absorbed and expectant. The turkey, his odd corner-wise gait accentuated by his anxiety of mind, rushed towards the child who at first did not notice his approach. But presently, turning around, St. Elmo beheld an apparently formidable assailant which by the most powerful flight of imagination could not be mistaken for a fairy. All escape by way of the gate was shut off by the intruder. St. Elmo’s plump legs, bare above his low socks, twinkled as he ran wildly towards the foot of the garden.
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Halin-Chen Response,
>Mrs. Bennett smiled. She thought they could have had no trouble in locating Billy.
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