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“Oh, oh! It ran—across my—foot!” she gasped, and fell over. “My feet’s purty well jolted up inter my head,” cried the uncomfortable rider. But Betty insisted on his getting full value for his money, and dared him to descend until the round of the arena had been completed. Billy hid his wheel in the same tangle of rose vine, now all pink and fragrant with bloom, that had sheltered it that earlier Spring afternoon,—was it years ago? It seemed so. As he crept out of the brush and turned to the steep tangled mountain, he saw the haunted house, with the bare space in front. There were the two brothers fighting fiercely!.

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Thus adjured by his father the elocutionist began in a loud dramatic voice: “Here’s Mis’ Mifsud an’ St. Elmo comin’ in the buckboard,” he announced. The strains of “Red Wing” having died away, Mrs. Wopp busied herself setting up the crokinole board. “Me and Par won’t play, jist the young folks,” she announced. When Betty returned from school in the afternoon, she beheld snowy billowing apparel on the clothes-line. Mrs. Wopp, being very thrifty in the matter of using up flour and sugar sacks for underwear, had a motley collection of garments suspended by wooden pegs. A night-shirt of Mr. Wopp’s bore the inscription “Three Roses” dimly outlined in pink, while on the southern portion of a pair of more intimate garments could be discerned, fading into palest blue. “Great Western Mills.” The wind was causing a riotous time among the cheerful array of reconstructed sacks, and as Betty ran down the path singing “Twenty froggies went to school,” a sugar sack sleeve of Moses’ shirt embraced a flour sack bosom of his father’s undergarment; and “Pure Cane Sugar“ saluted “Ogiveme’s Mills.” Betty cheerfully performed her task of bringing in the clothes saturated with wind and sunshine. She thought the sweetest smell in the world next to morning-glories and nasturtiums was the smell of clean clothes fresh from the line..