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“Well, Moses,” queried his genial host at the supper table, “did the skating go pretty good to-day?” “Nothin’.” May Nell looked at him a minute before speaking. “You like doing things, but you don’t like work. Isn’t work doing things?”.

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As the party, now restored to composure, left the garden, Mrs. Mifsud remarked with her usual aptness, “I occasionally experience premonitions, Mrs. Wopp, that St. Elmo will some day attain celebrity as a clairvoyant.” Maria now began to get alarmed, and her anxiety being communicated to Clarence and Betty, the three young people set off in a combined search. As Isobel seated herself on the piano-stool in compliance with her father’s wishes, her white-flounced dress billowed up around her, reminding Moses, even in his chaotic state of mind, of the delicious creamy meringue on a lemon pie. “Aint it amazin’ how hungry one gits,” hoarsely remarked Mr. Wopp who had not spoken for some time owing to close application to the task in hand. “Lize, I want a piece of that punkin pie of yourn.” Here he caressed the bulging buttons on his waistcoat. “My mouth’s waterin’ fer it an’ I b’lieve I hev room.”.