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In the hours of joy that followed, joy known only to boys and farms in conjunction, Billy,—and it was unusual for him,—more than once recalled his mother’s words; heeded them to the extent of bidding Harold a reluctant good-bye when the sun was still blazing high above the horizon. But when, on his way home, he came to the branching of the road his good resolution weakened. He looked back. The sun was surely more than an hour high. He would have time to go up the hill road to the “Ha’nt.” And, beside that, he wished to look at the river where its divided flow encircled a tiny, shrub-grown island. “O mother, how can there be joy if life is all work and never any fun?” He took her hand and pressed it against his cheek. CHAPTER IV THE TWO-LIGHT TIME.
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Conrad
Full of her thought she slipped from the couch, and went to the kitchen. “Mrs. Bennett, haven’t you some work a little girl could do?” “But you haven’t told us what hurries you so,” Jean called, while Billy was already sprinting away. Clarence, however, when questioned, declared, “I haven’t seen the little shaver since dinner.” Howard Eliot having left his charges safely at home went to his lonely ranch haunted by rebellious thoughts which Mrs. Wopp would have translated, “Here endeth my knowledge of the female speeshie.”.
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