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“White eyebrows child! What are you talkin’ about? Yer eyebrows are blacker nor that stove.”,

“Why not arsk Geordie Hodgekiss. He’s sich a grand feller fer helpin’ at dances, an’ his voice ’ud most wake the dead. I feel shore he’d hev the good o’ the quilt at heart.”,

“But, Billy, Tom opens it for him! He climbs up, gets his nose in, and the largest part of himself; then he crowds along as hard as he can, and calls to Flash, ‘The way is clear; come’;—you needn’t laugh; he says it just as plain as words,” she protested. “And Flash springs up, creeps through, and jumps to the floor, with Tom after him; and the screen slaps to with a big noise. I’ve seen them do it three times this week. Isn’t that a wonder?”,

“I didn’t—I haven’t washed. I’m—” All at once as Billy walked through the tiled entrance, and felt himself in the midst of splendors he had viewed only from without, he was overcome with the suspicion that he looked rather queer beside the immaculate Doctor. He knew his hair “stood up all ways for Sunday”; and his face must be dirty. “But they won’t know how dirty,” he reflected; “this is[211] the time them plaguey freckles’ll get in an’ hide the dust.” Freckles were Billy’s sorest point.

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DOCTOR CARTER was not in when Billy arrived at his office breathless and hatless. He had not foreseen this. All the way to town his thoughts had raced with his wheel. He had planned how he could tell his story the quickest; had thought of no other ear for his confidence than Doctor Carter’s, the kind, all-understanding physician who had fought valiantly if losingly to save Billy’s father; who had ever since been the most thoughtful of friends as well as the best of physicians. He seemed to Billy the only man to trust with his secret. This was something that could not be told to the best mother in the world, even not considering the fright it would give her; it was quite out of a woman’s world.,

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.,

“Are you hungry, Isobel?” questioned her mother.,

“Oh ’bout the fairies an’ stars an’ lovely things that grownups know nothin’ about.”