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Moses, who was still in the dark as to the exact character of the entertainment planned, was all eagerness to get preliminaries over. Edith worked very hard. She called her operetta “The Triumph of Flora.” The words were her own, written hurriedly and set to familiar though classic airs. Yet many of the daintiest, most tripping melodies she wrote herself. The sorrows of humanity had winged her brain and dipped her pen in harmonies, that she might assuage them. “You look orful, jist like you was growin’ a pair of speckled toothbrushes. What ’ll Mar say? You carn’t go to school like that.”.

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Betty had a conviction, though an unspoken one, that Moses was the primary cause of Job’s infirmity. The slowest of a large family of striped fluffy turkeys to emerge from the shell, he had been assisted in his efforts by the impatient Moses. Betty felt sure that the clumsy fingers of the boy had ruined the little turkey’s eye. The accusation, however, was too dreadful to be put into words. Behind the two women trotted a chubby baby. “I see Billy boat,” he cried, shrilly, stumbled, fell, scrambled up again, and repeated his refrain. Jimmy was the first to stand and cheer. In a cage of wire netting bearing the legend, “The Roc—The Egg,” the uncomfortable gander swayed and craned his neck; and all but his voice was satisfactory. In the bottom of the cage a whitewashed stone the size of a small pumpkin did duty as the egg..