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“O Billy!” Jean gasped, fear for the little, delicate girl in that eery place lending sympathy to her voice. The broad shaft of sunlight that flooded the dining-room where Nell Gordon sat was suddenly darkened. Looking up she saw the tall straight figure of Howard Eliot at the doorway. “Billy, I don’t think you could possibly have been happier on your birthday than I was; yet I was so tired that night that I could not sleep. The work of that day was play to me.”.

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“Oh, please, mister, sir, don’t hurt Bouncer. I’d rather you’d hit me. He’s the best dog ever lived, and I won’t let you hurt him.” Her courage grew as she spoke, and he stopped his search and glanced her way. She looked up, bravely pleading for the dog she hugged harder. “Of course I am,” he replied promptly, with a squeeze of her hand that made her wince. “At first I was scared; I thought you must be a fairy.” Supper over and dishes hurried out of sight, the floor was once more cleared and the real business of the evening was resumed. Everything was going smoothly when suddenly a catastrophe stopped short the circus, and left Moses greatly distressed. He inwardly complained that never yet was he “havin’ a good time but some orful thing happened to put a cloud over the sun.” The hens and chickens that had been pressed into the ranks of the circus performers were crowding round a swill-bucket which Moses had left tilted at a precarious angle on an upturned soap-box. In its zig-zag gyrations round the yard, the ostrich, to avoid the ubiquitous fowl, ran against the bucket and the odoriferous contents were splashed over the yellow-draped circus lady. The contents of the swill-pail trickled down Betty’s finery and dropped sadly from the pink headgear of the ostrich..