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“But if your steamer works you don’t want its secrets peddled round; and girls always blab.”,

“Won’t you sing something else, Mrs. Wopp.” Nell was growing uncomfortable under Betty’s reference to the unburnished state of her cloud.,

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.,

“Orl right, Mar,” answered Moses, dutifully, his mouth watering in anticipation of the goodies in prospect.

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“But they are dead,” Jimmy protested.,

Now the band came up, a troop of boys in gorgeous uniforms made of red calico and tinsel paper. A drum and fife kept tolerable time; but the wheezy harmonicas and paper-covered combs, the tin horns and clanging triangles, quite “covered” any tune the fife attempted. Yet what matter? It was a joyful noise; and even the horses kept step to the valiant drum.,

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.,

In the meantime, affairs outside were in a more lethargic condition. The Wopp’s steady-going brown team Josh and Jake tied to a wheel of the democrat stood enjoying a small pile of hay on the ground before them. Beneath the democrat sat Jethro watching with eager gaze for the reappearance of his friends. Occasionally he administered chastisement to an impertinent fly which after buzzing around in a tantalizing manner ventured to settle on his nose or ear. After an hour of intense boredom he rose, stretched himself, yawned; then began to walk sedately towards the church. He intended to find out what was going on anyway. He had been told to watch the democrat; but there were limits to even canine patience. He reached the church door just in time to see a small, badly-frightened mouse running madly up the aisle. Quick as a flash he gave chase, uttering short, excited yelps as he ran. The mouse redoubled its speed. So did Jethro. Round and round the church they raced. In his excitement and mad haste Jethro, intent only on his immediate task, ran violently against Mr. Bliggins who stood transfixed in the aisle, his work only half completed. Though he managed to retain his balance the collection plate was jolted from his hand and in its clattering descent was accompanied by the tinkling of a small shower of silver coins which rolled here and there over the floor of the church.