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But Jean spoke at once and heartily. “Here’s to our latest addition. May she never be subtracted from us. Already she’s multiplied our joys, yet we hope she’ll not have to divide our woes.” “A new kind of hen,” retorted Moses. “No ‘chase’ to-day, girls. I’ve got business in town.”.

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Every back bent a little lower. Every face flushed a little rosier under its coat of grime. Praise from Billy was all they asked. A dull yellow glow from the kerosene lamp, placed by Moses on the bureau, lighted up the figure of Betty reclining on snowy pillows. On one side of her was seated Howard, his arm about the drowsy child. On the side of the bed, squarely seated on one of Mrs. Wopp’s texts worked into the patchwork quilt, was Nell, watching the little pallid face and trying to avoid the eyes of her silent lover. 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. Mrs. Wopp was too busy to eat breakfast in the orthodox fashion. She could be heard in the kitchen preparing for the trying ordeal of wash-day. Out in the yard the head of the house was busy feeding the fowl..