“Something my mother sent yours. You mustn’t touch it,” he warned, as Billy made a reach for it. “I was to land this safe in Mrs. Bennett’s hands; and here goes!” He sprang from Billy’s outreached arms, ran into the house and out again, before Billy had time to resume his mowing.,
The dutiful husband drew from his pocket a long slip of paper and a small stubby pencil. Having a poor memory, he had formed the habit of making a note of everything his wife suggested, so that he could fulfill her wishes in future. The notes were plentiful, but they failed in some unaccountable way to prod his memory.,
In the meantime Mr. Wopp sitting precariously on the edge of the sofa was examining for at least the two-hundredth time the red plush album which contained the records of the Wopp family, past and present, in picture form. He looked long and earnestly at a tin-type representing a plump, velvet-coated, mop-haired boy of twelve. He sighed deeply..
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