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“Yes, Mosey, I jist want to go to my mornin’-glory garding to tell it good-night.” She rubbed her sleepy tear-stained eyes. “No; I’ll do it first thing to-morrow.” He tried vainly to change the subject. “I—” “What’s the matter, Kiddie? Gee! Those big girls ought not to leave you alone with that fire; you’ll be cooked before the grub!” he grumbled while he mended the fire and propped the kettle. “Yum, yum! Things a-doin’ here. Makes a feller’s stomach feel like just before Thanksgiving dinner.”.

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“Aint that wonderful Miss Gordon? An’ Betty never had a lesson in her life. She jist naterly takes to music,” said Mrs. Wopp complacently. “I haf learn for gifing avay already, but I feel more as rich dan if they haf gif to me. How ist dat?” Max asked himself, not knowing, this little German lad so lately come to America, that he had discovered one of the profoundest secrets of the universe. “It’s only a chop left from yesterday,” he excused on his return. But a second idea came that made him fidget about the room, lift his bandage and watch the children on their way to school. His record for attendance for the year had so far been perfect. He knew that he owed it partly to his mother’s tireless watch of the clock, and wondered why he had not realized this before. Now it was to be broken; she would be as sorry as he could be; and it would have counted well toward the prize. He tried to calculate how many days he could be absent and still have left some chance of it. The work was all reviewing, he almost knew it, anyway. If he only had his books,—but no, they wouldn’t let him use his eyes..