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The resourceful Betty was not to be undone by this embarrassing accident. She used the silk shawl to groom the ostrich and to mop the disfiguring stains from Moses’ face. The helmet was discarded and the aigret of red hair rose instantly undaunted, waving a lively accompaniment to the boy’s continued exertions to follow the pace set by Betty’s imagination. Jethro, lying on a mat at the door, was contentedly gnawing a bone. Nancy, having finished her milk, and still enjoying its flavor from her whiskers, as Betty remarked, stealthily approached her canine playmate. A slight altercation took place concerning the ownership of the bone. It was not long before Jethro walked out of the room, perceptibly toeing in, and probably reflecting that life was too short to wrangle over a bare bone anyway. “Dear Billy,” it read; “Shifty seen the fight. He says it was something fierce. He says you looked like a mad bull. He was hiding behind the fence. He says he bet on me; but he was glad he didn’t bet with nobody, because you whipped. Shifty’s doing some of my written work—I’m telling him how, of course. And I’m studying right smart. Say, Bill, I don’t lay no grudge. My arm’s getting on fine..

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“Oh!” interposed Betty, “but they didn’t throw a sorft stone. I don’t b’lieve in sorft answers no more.” “Say, it’s a donation party, isn’t it?” Billy did not see Harold wink at the twins, but picked up his mower and started across the lawn at a trot. Through the Stygian darkness of the loft loomed the figure of Mrs. Wopp, a white apron of huge dimensions indicating her presence. She made as though to descend the ladder. “Wait, Billy! You are hurt, badly. Let me see.” She put out a detaining hand..