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Mr. Wells the clergyman was of English birth, very conservative and inclined to be shy. He was unusually tall with broad shoulders. Mrs. Wopp once said of him, “When Mr. Wells gits his gownd on, he’s the hull lan’scape.” The deeply pious lady seldom criticized things ecclesiastical; but she had “feelin’s that ef Ebenezer Wopp bed of took to larnin’ like his Mar wished, he’d of looked amazin’ well in that pulpit, better nor Mr. Wells.” Not deigning to notice this irrelevant interruption the teacher proceeded. As he came into the main road a rosy, wholesome looking girl was flying by. “Hello, Jean!” he called after her; “that’s going some—for a girl.”.
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Billy needed no hurrying. He dashed off along a well defined path, free from hindering branches. It hugged the brawling stream, crossed it more than once by way of stepping stones, and led on past the already shriveling azaleas. It must have been long used to be so clear. With a start and plunge the surprised horses, now thoroughly indignant, set off at a gallop. She stood at the end of the creaking wharf, and one little bare arm was lifted high. She held a small fruit jar filled with water and beet juice. It was awkward, but Billy had insisted on the fruit jar,—“So’s it will be sure to break; it’s the only kind of a bottle that always will break.” “Her hand would be as pretty as any one’s if she didn’t have to work so hard,” Billy thought loyally; and promised himself again that the first money he earned should buy his mother a diamond ring..
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