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“Don’t nobody start ‘Greenland Icy Mountings’ round here,” objected Moses. “I got orl the cool drarfts I need comin’ through this here hole in my shirt.” “White eyebrows child! What are you talkin’ about? Yer eyebrows are blacker nor that stove.” Billy ran off full of vague expectation born of his mother’s smile. No one in all the country round, not even Harold Prettyman, whose father had the finest farm in Vine County, had such a splendid place to play as the Bennetts’ back lot that sloped down to Runa Creek. As Billy slammed the gate and bounded out on a huge boulder that hung over the creek, a sounding cheer greeted him from below..
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“Surely; but—” CHAPTER IV.—WASH-DAY AT MRS. WOPP’S. “Oh, no, not a fairy; only Cinderella. Last night I was the poor little cinder girl; now my fairy godmothers, two, have touched me with their wands, needles, and I’m so fine even the Prince didn’t know me.” Yet it was a very quiet little child that crept down to the others a few minutes later; when asked of her fortune she burst into tears..
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