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CHAPTER XIII.—MOSES GAINS PRESTIGE. “O mother, how can there be joy if life is all work and never any fun?” He took her hand and pressed it against his cheek. “Miss Gordon, with all his book larnin’ he knowed no more ’bout black-jack than I know ’bout divin’ fer pearls, and the Bullock boys thort he was no good anyhow, ef he couldn’t beat their Par at cards. So one mornin’ they met him as he was goin’ to school, an’ they give him a good beatin’ up, then flung him in Rodd’s creek to cool him, bein’ winter. He crawled outer the creek, Miss Gordon, an’ never went to the school no more. It shorely was a jedgement on him fer playin’ those wicked card games. Moses, parse the ketchup.”.
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“Did you hev a good time in the city larst week, Mis’ Mifsud?” asked Mrs. Wopp, politely. “The prize is equally divided between James Dorr and William Bennett,” the judges announced. “Orl right, Mar,” answered Moses, dutifully, his mouth watering in anticipation of the goodies in prospect. “Billy! You said you weren’t hurt, but you are!” Alarmed, she rose and switched on the light, pulled off the bandage, and turned faint at the wreck of the bright, clean boy who had left her that afternoon. “My boy! You’re dreadfully hurt! I must send for Doctor Carter, and—”.
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