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“Mary Ellen Smith; but my mama calls me May Nell; and she says—she says ‘kid’ is vulgar.” The last words were very shy.,

“Yes, I could eat a graven image.”,

As the evening wore on Mrs. Wopp, Mrs. Stephens and a few other ladies adjourned to a box stall where the refreshments were stored. Pleased with the prospect of dispensing lavish hospitality from the combined larders of the neighborhood, Mrs. Wopp’s face radiated cheerfulness.,

“Billy, let me plan,” May Nell interposed. “We’ll work hard to fix up the Lodge before Jean has to go home. I’ll stay and wait for you, and Bouncer with me; and I’ll search for my Idean vine. I must have something that will do for that. I wish I could find a real one.”

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To his mother and sister Billy seemed changed. He stuck closer to his books. His teacher told them the boy stood at the head of his class. “Jimmy Dorr may be a rival if he feels like work, which isn’t probable. Jean’s accident last year put her behind, otherwise the boys would have to work much harder if either excelled her.” Yet even these welcome words did not account for some things the mother quietly observed; Billy’s growing promptness, better attention, and memory for matters outside of play. He was more silent, too; and there was less hammering and whistling in the shop.,

Not deigning to notice this irrelevant interruption the teacher proceeded.,

“But you work hard, and he should do his part. You are spending your youth for us, and I’m glad he begins to see it.” They spoke softly, yet Billy knew partly what they said; and it made him still more thoughtful.,

Choosing a piece of bright yellow chalk she began to inscribe the golden text on the blackboard. She pressed too hard and the chalk cracked and fell to the floor. Pete Stolway vaulted out of his chair to capture the yellow pencil, but he had the misfortune to step on both the pieces of crayon, crushing them to sand, a heap of yellow grit.