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“Well I only go ’way about onct in a blue moon,” declared Mrs. Wopp, “an’ I feel so unsartin ’bout everything. Here we are a pack of Gadarene swine goin’ orff to a great city to eat husks I s’pose like the prodigal son. Never mind Ebenezer we’ll come back right glad I’ll bet to the fatted calf.” She pinched his ear in an elephantine playfulness as though he might be the fatted calf himself. With a boy’s cunning and swiftness Billy made a running creep through the underbrush up the steep mountain side. From a peephole higher up he stopped, breathless, and watched them beat the chaparral round about where he had stood; saw them go down into the road, look each way, turn and scan the mountain; and at last slink off, one to the house, the other to the vineyard. It occurred to Mrs. Wopp that the object in question might have been a new kind of singing bird, but “least said, soonest mended.” She would ask Moses if Clarence had ever mentioned it, the very first chance she had. None of the other ladies present assayed to join in the conversation, so perhaps most of them also were mystified. Airs. Wopp looked hard at Nell Gordon. Of course she knew what Mrs. Mifsud meant, but she seemed completely absorbed in turning a difficult corner in the quilt. A welcome interruption occurred..

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Moses regretted a hundred times his refusal to grant Betty’s request for two bits. He had since offered it and had tried to thrust it on her, but injured pride could not thus be appeased. “I knew it!” Billy panted feverishly. “The Ha’nt!” Heedless of the dog running with his nose close to the ground, Billy rushed on. His shirt was torn, his trousers hanging by one suspender, his shoes cut and one tap turned back. Ashes whitened his hair; though at the back a dark mat was still damp from oozing blood,—the handkerchief that had bound it had been torn off by a twitching twig. His smarting eyes watered so that he could hardly see his way. Yet of all this he was unconscious. Weariness, pain, his cracked and bleeding lips,—he knew nothing of them, felt nothing. It quickly occurred to him to run around and climb up there by the coop. Perhaps he could see into the windows—perhaps see— He didn’t wait to finish his thought, but scrambled frantically up the steep and came around to the top of the wall. The window opposite and level with him was bare but not as dirty as the others; and against it he saw a bed-post. Anyway that room was used by some one besides ghosts, he thought; and wondered what to do next. Just then Bouncer sprang up and gave a single short bark, his bark of greeting. “She’ll be all right. May Nell and me—I—we took our lunch and went over to Potter’s pasture. Shoot! She’s waiting now! I hope the poor little kiddie—little girl—eats, don’t wait for me,—she an’ Bouncer.”.