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“White eyebrows child! What are you talkin’ about? Yer eyebrows are blacker nor that stove.” It was Saturday afternoon on a busy street in the city. Moses Wopp and Clarence Crump, at whose home the former was spending the week end, were on their way to the skating-rink. If they had wanted to skate there, the streets would have accommodated them with a sufficiently smooth surface, as an early frost had rimed the pavement. “I’d love to, Billy,” Mrs. Lancaster whispered; “I’ve never liked being grown up.”.

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“I b’lieve Moses’ll eat jelly-roll some day till he rolls up hisself. I’m orful hungry, can I hev some fresh bread?” “Here come the Wopps,” said Nell to her companion as the family entered, led as usual by Mrs. Wopp. Mr. Wopp came next especially scoured for the occasion, freshly shaved and with long side hair carefully oiled and combed over the bald spot on his crown. He carried a few long strips of paper in his hand. Beside him walked Betty inwardly disapproving of the two stiff braids with which her head was adorned. Bringing up the rear was Moses, his face shining with soap and satisfaction and wearing a new brown suit at least two sizes too large for him. He was bent on a good time which in his case meant sitting on a side bench with a few other youths and jeering at the mistakes of the dancers. Close at his heels came Jethro who had pleaded so hard to be brought along and had gazed at them with such tragic appeal in his eyes that they could not disappoint him. He was now stationed under a bench, having first been intimidated with dire threats as to what would happen to him should he come out and trip up the dancers. “But you don’t feel so now, my son. Jimmy will soon be well; you, too. Then you can talk with him about it. Rest, now; that is your first duty,” she comforted, and left him. “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..