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Mr. Wopp and Moses, who had hurried to the upper storey to escape the recital of the ketchup episode, now came heavily down the stairs, their task at last finished. Clarence and Harry, much wrapped in white about the head, but with bare little white arms and bare little brown legs, came in solemnly and placed some red lanterns on the table. Bess posed in a chair decorated for the occasion, arranged her draperies, pulled nearer the “incense lamp,” which was her father’s Turkish cigar lighter, laid out her cards, and bent over them in grave silence. “But it’s a secret,” she whispered in smothered distress. “Please to go!”.
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The elders, having settled at their task, Maria Mifsud and Betty, who were considered too young and irresponsible to assist with such important work, made their way to the creek, that perennial source of amusement for the youthful. They were accompanied by Maria’s small brother, St. Elmo. Here, during the long summer afternoon they gaily disported themselves, even the rather dignified Maria entering with zest into childish fun. “Then he walked back as slowly and dignifiedly as a minister,—isn’t ‘dignifiedly’ an awkward word? I wonder if it is right?” “What yer whistlin’ so mournful like?” queried his mother, “makes me think of funerals an’ sich like; jist come in an’ help yer par with the stove-pipes, mebbe that’ll cheer you up.” CHAPTER VI “THE TRIUMPH OF FLORA”.
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