St. Elmo’s face brightened with intelligence. He broke into the story to give a graphic account of how a little yellow chicken of his sister’s had got “dwownded” in the pig-trough.,
Billy thought he detected a touch of resigned disappointment in her words, and looked up with a sudden wonder widening his eyes, making them shine even in the dim light of the shaded lamp. “Do you want me to preach, mamma?”,
“Yes, I can, right now!” The little girl, full of enthusiasm for her beloved yellow cat, went over and laid her hand impressively on Billy’s arm. “You know the dining-room window screen hung from the top, that has the broken catch on one side?”.
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