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“She can’t, you know; she and sister have to work hard to make what we spend now. I don’t do half enough myself.” “Ebenezer Wopp, no wonder you talk sich ridicilsome nonsense in yer sleep, eatin’ cheese at night. It’s ’nough to make you dream of boer-constructors.” A pretty little figger,.

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He looked at the beaming faces, at the beautiful table with Jean’s great pagoda cake in the centre, the dates, 1893-1906, in evergreen; at the flowers everywhere; at the dishes,—they usually ate from vine leaves at their out-of-door feasts,—at the paper napkins folded fantastically and hovering over the table like gay butterflies. His eloquent face told his surprise, his gratitude, his delight. He opened his mouth to speak some fitting word, but it wouldn’t come. He tried again, for he felt the occasion called for something formally appreciative. But only a whimsical idea flitted into his mind; and he sang back— A gleeful yell greeted his paraphrase. While they ate it all came out, how they had planned and executed. Harold had peas and strawberries hidden in his mysterious basket, freshly gathered by his own hands that morning. George and Jimmy had furnished and dressed the chickens, and the girls had roasted them—with a little supervision from Mrs. Bennett—in the Yukon camping stove that belonged to Harry’s mother. Bess had given the dishes, blue and white enamel, strong as well as good to the eye, and ready for many another frolic. “All ready?” cried Captain Billy. “Are you ready, Ladybird?” Having disposed of the song, dear to her mother’s heart, in spite of the protestations of Moses, Betty went to the kitchen and in a few moments returned with a steaming pot of tea..