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CHAPTER XI.—JONAH AND THE WHALE. “Bctcher took orl mornin’ to tittyvate them there carrots,” offered Moses, edging up to Maria with conciliatory glances, and jostling St. Elmo who stood waiting to contribute his donation. The little fellow, whose nose was still “bluggy” from tripping over the saw-horse, dropped his lonely long scraggy carrot on the floor, and in stooping to pick it up struck his head against the handle of a hay-fork and emitted a howl that might have been heard by the heathen themselves in Africa. Betty comforted him with a gum-drop that had lain neglected in her pocket for several weeks, and the cries ceased. “Doubtless it is incorporated in the language of some foreign people,” conceded Mrs. Mifsud, languidly..
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Better than all others, “Wait, Billy! You are hurt, badly. Let me see.” She put out a detaining hand. “Just to think I’ve got to heat up more water and fill this tank again for a good-for-nothing urchin like you! Begorra! It’s worth it though to see you get a good ducking!” “Sure! Take care of the truck, will you?” He dropped his burdens to Jean’s willing hands, and darted forward..
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