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“What is Betty like?” “Well, I’ll see,” replied Moses, but as he plunged his hand again into his pocket the cheerful jingle of coins stirred his masculine sense of ownership to profounder depths and he frowned and turned on his heel. Her questions brought long and wonderful tales of Billy’s younger life; of Edith when she, too, was a little girl. The child helped to set the table, carried in bread, salad plates, and jelly. “It shakes like the fat woman at the circus when she laughed. How do you make jelly?”.
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The Wopps, father and son, attacked the load of hay with such vigor that it was quickly disposed of. Just as the last forkful was being pitched over the corral fence, the boy looking up saw a vehicle approaching. “Mith Wopp,” offered Lila Williams with a dignity befitting her eight years and her enviable position as daughter of the regular teacher, “my ma wont let Pete and Pat thit together, they act too thilly.” Edith finished her music lesson, dismissed her pupil, and made the little girl tidy if comical, in one of her own frocks. And when the four sat to eat, Billy’s voice rang above the rest in the little song they sang in lieu of grace. “I like ‘Ladybird,’ but not ‘bully,’” the little girl returned shyly..
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