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“Oh Miss Gordon,” cried Betty, her dark brown eyes sparkling with delight, “the flowers can talk to each other across them telfone wires, can’t they?” “You remember that story about a man who died for love of a girl because he knew he ought not to marry her? I thought that sort kind of noble, but you said there was nobler. Do you remember?” “The strife is o’er, the battle done,” recommended Mrs. Wopp without hesitation. As Maria could not be persuaded to approach the organ the singing was lustily led by Mrs. Wopp and under her able leadership maintained the most vigorous proportions..
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“Ef it hadn’t been fer Mosey, St. Elmo might of been lorst yet,” remarked Betty, gazing reflectively into the fire. “Ef he was goin’ walkin’ on till he found Joner, he’d of been gone a long while.” “Say, fellows, business now, and no questions asked. There’s a hitch on the stage. Storm, wrap that cloak round you—don’t wait for fixings—and get to your place in the wings, quick! When I say ‘Go,’ take Rain’s hand, crouch low, run to the centre, and between you yank that snow tank off the stage. Sabe?” For five hundred dollars a week he had pranced to the admiring vaudeville audience; but once let the artist lay bare his soul in real music and whispering reaches his ear. But there was no use complaining, no one could understand his disgust. “Bully fer you, ’s Gordon,” shouted the excited Moses leaping furiously. “Keep her goin’. Ole Dan Tucker jist fits that toon.”.
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