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“My mama doesn’t believe in public school,” she had announced that first Monday morning; but had gone obediently when Mrs. Bennett decided it best. And the new life, the stimulation of study, the competition in class, her knowledge of books, and the prestige of her story,—these made school a delight, brought a happy light to her eye, a tinge of color to her too fair cheek. “You can send some one after us, a man—not you, not either of you,” he called back over his shoulder, and was soon out of sight. “Soapsuds is Moses’ strong weakness,” commented Mrs. Wopp, laughing till her fat shoulders quaked perilously..

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Off they bounded, side by side, through the fragrant spring evening. The red of the western sky touched to brighter rosiness their glowing cheeks, tinted Jean’s wind-blown hair with gold. As they neared the town she shot ahead in a last ambitious spurt, wheeled and faced him as he came up. “Billy Boy, it’s fine! It’s splendid! But it’s so big I’m afraid Buzz will be scared.” All this time Mr. Wopp had carried and brushed and shaken stove-pipe lengths until his face and bald head resembled a latticework trellis. Only one length remained to be operated on before proceeding to the upper storey, where the stove-pipe continued its tortuous way to the chimney, warming sundry rooms on its beneficent course. Out of the tail of her eye Betty noted this little touch of sentiment and was much impressed..