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.,
“I dassent do it, Betty,” replied Moses. “Anyhow this ole pair of scissors ’d do the job better.”,
For a moment Betty stood in an attitude of dejection, but suddenly her face brightened. The muscles at the corners of her mouth stiffened, her little pointed chin was thrust forward ever so slightly and a look came into her brown eyes which said plainly, “Never you mind, Moses Wopp, I’ll get money and more than two bits for my missionary box.”.
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