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“Oh go on Betty, a daddy-long-legs’d die of starvin’ on what you eat.” It occurred to Mrs. Wopp that the object in question might have been a new kind of singing bird, but “least said, soonest mended.” She would ask Moses if Clarence had ever mentioned it, the very first chance she had. None of the other ladies present assayed to join in the conversation, so perhaps most of them also were mystified. Airs. Wopp looked hard at Nell Gordon. Of course she knew what Mrs. Mifsud meant, but she seemed completely absorbed in turning a difficult corner in the quilt. A welcome interruption occurred. “Have more toast Glory,” said Moses suddenly wakened. Unwrapping his leg from the rung of the chair, he reached across the table..

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“Well, old Tom’ll have to be cleverer than I ever saw him to pay for that.” “Naw Nosey,” he retorted, “there ain’t no bun to break in two, the dorg is outside the bun already.” “This isn’t so bad,” he continued, as he led her into a sunny upper chamber that looked on the mountain in the rear. “And it’ll be all over in a day or so; you’ll see your father,—on the square you will, little kid. Do you think you’ll scream? You’d better not.” He put his hand under her chin to lift her face, and she was glad he wore gloves. “Now, Mose, fer the elbow. Stiddy! Don’t shove! Don’t pull! Hole her stiddy!”.