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“Mary Ellen Smith; but my mama calls me May Nell; and she says—she says ‘kid’ is vulgar.” The last words were very shy. “Don’t look so, brother,” Edith said as she kissed him good-bye; “the ‘grub’ is making a fine boy, and I’m proud of him.” Yet as she tied her veil at the mirror she saw the cloud still lingering on his face. “Golly! They’re working all night. I—ought to—help—to-morrow. I—” He slept again with his good resolution half made..

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Acting on this timely suggestion, Mrs. Wopp deposited the mischievous youths on small chairs, one on each side of her table, directly under her watchful eye. Cracking nuts seemed to have been the special proposed form of amusement for the afternoon. By the end of five minutes the substitute teacher had set several large noisy paper bags on the window ledge. “Feel that muscle,” he said a moment later; bending his arm, and pressing her fingers to it. “That’s got to grow by a broom or hoe, something besides football!” “The Lord loveth a cheerful liver, Moses,” said his mother encouragingly, as she saw the growing acidity of the boy’s countenance. Mrs. Wopp had never forgotten a certain missionary service, during which she had studied a text in gold lettering of old English type on the wall. The uncertain light of stained glass falling on the last word had made it difficult to read. But at last realizing that a sound liver and cheerfulness are closely associated, she had seen no incongruity in her translation of the text. “I’m the Royal Egyptian Fortune Teller!” Bess announced, in a deep voice. “This is my desert tent. I shall reveal the past, present, and future to those only whom my favor shall designate. Slaves, the lamps!”.