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CHAPTER VIII.—BETTY VISITS THE CITY OF HER DREAMS. “All right, Doc,” the other replied a bit gruffly; “suppose we catch ’em before we fight about the divvy.” “It’s my fault, too, Mrs. Bennett; don’t put the blame all on Billy,” Jean half sobbed; and hurried after him..

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All went well for some blocks. There was a flattering audience at each front door; a few honored the pageant by following. These were mostly mothers of the younger children, who knew the possibilities of such an aggregation of animals and boys. They walked up as before, and ate slowly, piece by piece, neither touching a morsel on the opposite side of the division line. Sir Thomas finished first, and looked on while Flash minced more daintily. He did not eat all, but walked off to the plush-cushioned chair they claimed as their own. Sir Thomas watched him curl up and rest his nose on his white forepaws, then quickly finished the rest of the meat and joined him. And now such a toilet began. Each groomed the other; yet, as always, Tom tired first while Flash worked on till they both shone like silk, when he put his long arms about Tom, nestled his head close down, and both slept. “And Jean and Jimmy, too.” As Moses clattered down stairs, Mrs. Wopp continued, “There is shore a thunderstorm comin’ up to-night. ’Pears to me I heerd like a roll of drums.”.