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By the time the deep apple-pie was brought in, raised in the centre by a cup, he had become facetious, and turning a mirthful countenance to Nell, he whispered audibly, “Isn’t it just like Fuji Yama?” Before Nell could answer, Betty broke in. “Moses, put the hosses in the stable an’ fuller me. We’ll soon find him, Mis’ Mifsud,” said Mr. Wopp, his kindliness asserting itself in this crisis. “Come on, Clarence, an’ Mis’ Mifsud you send the other men along ’s soon ’s they git here. Jist you rest easy, we’ll soon be back with yer boy.” Impressed with the importance of her task of instilling wisdom into the minds of her young listeners, Mrs. Wopp ignored this remark and continued the narrative into which she had already launched..
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The two steeds attached to the car of the Goddess of Liberty, also deserted their task, and marked their path with bright bits of paper and bunting. “Jist hold on there, Mose, we wanter play a game of checkers on yer pants.” At this jibe Moses turned and held up a clenched fist as warning of a potential thrashing which the boys knew would never materialize. Moses was slow to active wrath. “Oh, no, no! I’m fit—I must find her myself—right now!” 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..
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