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Betty, orphaned at the age of six, had been adopted by the kind-hearted Mrs. Wopp. The child found her chief joy in life, outside of Jethro, Nancy and Job, in a flower-bed. A small plot of ground had been allotted her for her own use, and there every spring for the last four years her precious flowers had bloomed and had filled her eyes with brightness and her soul with gladness. Morning-glories and nasturtiums were the surest to bloom. They climbed the strings so gracefully and turned the old weather-beaten fence where they grew into a tapestry of gorgeous dyes. Betty entered the room last and was rendered almost speechless when she saw the birthday cake. She knew it would have one more candle than the cake for her last birthday had, but, O wonder of wonders! Around the edge was a wreath of morning-glories, made of pink and white icing, and in the heart of each was a silver dew-drop! Once she had seen a moving picture show. It was a marvellous experience to her and had filled her dreams for many nights. She now decided to have a little moving picture show of her own..
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Mrs. Bennett came in and tried to learn the trouble; but it was some time before May Nell could be induced to tell. “I reckon Joner hadn’t any too much light,” opined Mrs. Wopp. Guinea pigs, pigeons, and other and larger live stock, normal or otherwise, masqueraded as marvellous creatures from foreign lands. “Here, you poor darling, take mine! And don’t be afraid—you’ll find your mother before long.” Edith’s words were brave, but her own eyes were moist..
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