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CHAPTER XIII.—MOSES GAINS PRESTIGE. “I’m sorry to make you late with your mowing, Billy, but I must have you go out to Mrs. Prettyman’s for some cream she promised me.” “Who is going to auction the quilt when it is finished?” inquired Nell Gordon, appealing to her hostess as President of the Ladies’ Aid..

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“Moses, you git to the barn an’ hunt the aigs, an’ min’ you look in the haystack; that ole yaller hen has been wantin’ ter set in the nigh corner of it.” Mrs. Wopp was overcome with laughter at the bare memory of the picture her irate husband had presented. “Moses didn’t want to clip me Mar, but I thought ’twould be a ’provement to hev nice white eyebrows.” As Betty spoke one large tear rolled slowly down her cheek moistening in its course a small drop of blacking which Moses had overlooked in his cleansing operations, adding still more to the child’s grotesque appearance. The whole garden had been fenced in as a precaution against the encroachment of predatory animals. Molly, the inquisitive black cow, or Josh and Jake, who had no proper sense of the fitness of things, would have liked nothing better than to sample Mrs. Wopp’s prize turnips and scanty crop of Indian corn, and to trample into the soft earth whatever did not suit their dainty palates..