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Betty, not interested in intricate relationships, tiptoed into the parlor and uncovering the organ, played with one finger “Home Sweet Home.” The wool-embroidered motto on the wall almost wept.,

On such visits Mrs. Wopp enjoyed herself hugely. Her volubility was overpowering; as Mrs. Mifsud had been known to remark, “Not even a comma was there to clutch at to make good ones escape.” The faster her needle flew the faster raced her tongue. In view of the impending visit Mrs. Mifsud had surreptitiously stuffed one ear with cotton batting so that in the event of an extremely sanguinary onslaught, so to speak, at least one rampart of defence could be instantaneously thrown up. Ebenezer Wopp unlike his wife was expecting nothing but an afternoon of self-effacement though prepared to secretly admire to the full Mrs. Wopp’s sprightly conversation.,

“Come here Betty, till I clean yer face. Where is that boy Moses? I know he had a hand in this. Drat him anyhow,” said the incensed Mrs. Wopp.,

Clarence brought out his high-school books to display before the simple country boy the profundity of his learning. He opened his “Euclid” and Moses, sitting at the table, was vastly impressed with the sight of angles and triangles, and rash but interesting statements about abc being equal to bed. His attitude toward Clarence became one of utter abasement as that budding Archimedes produced his exercise book covered with squat-shaped triangles gleefully pursuing circles whose rims were horribly mangled by reason of defective compasses.

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“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?”,

“Oh go on Betty, a daddy-long-legs’d die of starvin’ on what you eat.”,

“My religion’s purty well wartered now, I guess,” said Moses, sheepishly, to Clarence, who met him at the end of the fateful corridor. That youth had followed his country friend from the Sunday-school hall, but not in time to direct his erring steps.,

What matter if the telegraph poles that were to be just twelve feet—that is, twelve inches—fell short or long sometimes.