Mrs. Bennett bade him good-night, and left him to the stars and the quiet night. Her heart was still sore for the little boy of the past, yet a strange joy came to her; the thoughtful, observant, earnest man had heralded his coming. She should be very proud of him.,
“Mine stomach ist so full mine head cannot t’ink,” Max stammered to Mrs. Bennett; “but it vas bravo!”,
This time Moses was more successful. Comforted, he felt he could enjoy a few morsels himself. Calling the contrite Jethro, who, after extricating himself from the ruins he had made, had retired under a bench, the boy made his way to a remote corner. Here no parental admonitions would disturb him. He surveyed with pleased expectancy an enormous triangle of pie, a huge slab of gingerbread, a monument of glistening iced cake, half a dozen tarts, and a few other trifles he had brought with him.,
Here Mrs. Wopp related for the hundredth time the account of the ketchup disaster.
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Betty said her prayers that night before her cyclamen. It seemed to her a “mornin’-glory that had been growed by an angel, its petals sparkled so, an’ it smelled so pure.” She breathed very softly her thanksgiving, with a vague feeling that it had wings and could find its way better than she knew.,
This was a poser for Mrs. Wopp, who was obliged to admit that her knowledge of biblical genealogy did not embrace the immediate relatives of Jonah.,
Going down the stairs his loud unmelodious singing reached the ears of those in the bedroom. When he arrived at the foot, Betty, whose ears were attuned to all acts of outlawry, had reason to believe that Moses performed three successive somersaults.,
“Well, I’ll see,” replied Moses, but as he plunged his hand again into his pocket the cheerful jingle of coins stirred his masculine sense of ownership to profounder depths and he frowned and turned on his heel.
“Bully for you, Ladybird. I’ve got a backer you see, sister.”
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What more might he do to hasten the Saturday work? He could not chop the kindling or fill the wood boxes. The weeding! It was behind. Both mother and sister had reminded him repeatedly, but he had forgotten. Only yesterday his sister had made tidy the flower beds that flanked the house; but the melons, the vegetables,—they were not done, and that would make no noise.
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Billy breathed deep. How he loved this opulent valley which was his birthplace and home! He longed to see all the world, yet he thought no other place could be as beautiful.
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“Lan’ sakes, here’s friend neighbor,” exclaimed Mrs. Wopp entering the room from the kitchen, “yer jist in time to help this here pore overworked teacher with some papers she brung home from the school.”
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Halin-Chen Response,
>“Wait, Billy! You are hurt, badly. Let me see.” She put out a detaining hand.
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