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CHAPTER XII THE CIRCUS “But some people like their work, don’t they?” May Nell persisted. She was exploring strange country. “Here you, Moses,” shouted his mother from the top of the stairs, “I heerd the pantry door squeakin’, no eatin’ till the job’s done.” She further informed him that stopping to eat “et inter his time too much an’ the work must be done afore dark.”.
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Conrad
The inexorable portrait on the wall seemed to gaze down on the recalcitrant youth with disapproval. Which last order was the signal for a giddy frolic. Finally, “Everybody promenade, you know where,” and the dancers joined the spectators on the benches. Mrs. Bennett hugged her closer and patted her cheek softly, but let the passion of tears spend itself a little before trying the comfort of words. Then she questioned of the child’s parents, her past life, and the events just preceding the catastrophe in San Francisco, that she herself might better understand how to shield and make happy the little waif that a terrible, heaving earth had cast into her home, her arms. “Worse! She said soon I’d have to be very brave—that ain’t bad—but I’m goin’ to be—to be a minister—a preacher!” The last word came with a woe-begone vehemence that made his mother laugh..
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