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“She has a music class in Loma; and it isn’t dreamland, either, teaching; but she has to earn grub for me, sister does.” The frank statement of a truth he had grown accustomed to this morning roused a feeling of shame, and he gazed steadily at his plate.,

A hand shot up at this point in the lesson and a thin voice piped, “Please, Mis’ Wopp, I was to the Fair last year.”,

Now in the silence and fragrance his tightened springs began to relax. Presently he found himself in a dream of possibilities of the island,—Ellen’s Isle, he always called it; of what might be done with the smooth places in the river, the hills, Sunol Creek not far away, boiling and tumbling in boisterous beauty; of hidden nooks, piled boulders, and tiny meadows, vine-enclosed and flower-fragrant.,

After setting her white bouquet on the large dining-table, Betty again hastened to her beloved garden and began weeding where her ministrations were needed. As she worked, she hummed “Sweet and Low” softly to herself. The school children had lately learned to sing it.

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Billy had the excitable musical temperament. He spent his forces lavishly, and it was because of this that he was a leader; could think and act quickly in emergencies, as when he saved the operetta from failure. Edith and her mother knew that he had lived hard through the past few weeks, that next to Edith herself he had carried the entertainment, though Jean had been a host also. So it pleased Mrs. Bennett that afternoon to see Billy start off alone for the country.,

The travellers passed on; he righted his wheel and began his slow, painful way home. It was still cloudy and the welcome darkness setting in early, shrouded him as he slipped down the least public streets and alleys to his own side gate. He put his wheel away, fed his chickens,—though they had gone to roost,—went to the cellar and brought meat and milk for dog and cats, and reconnoitred the way to the Fo’castle.,

As that long-suffering Mrs. Wopp wiped up the last traces of the chase she observed, “Moses’ footprints is twict as big as Betty’s, but hern is twict as many. They’ll shore git inter jist as much mischief, but Praise be! They’re both toein’ in the right d’rection.”,

“I dassent do it, Betty,” replied Moses. “Anyhow this ole pair of scissors ’d do the job better.”