He looked at the beaming faces, at the beautiful table with Jean’s great pagoda cake in the centre, the dates, 1893-1906, in evergreen; at the flowers everywhere; at the dishes,—they usually ate from vine leaves at their out-of-door feasts,—at the paper napkins folded fantastically and hovering over the table like gay butterflies. His eloquent face told his surprise, his gratitude, his delight. He opened his mouth to speak some fitting word, but it wouldn’t come. He tried again, for he felt the occasion called for something formally appreciative. But only a whimsical idea flitted into his mind; and he sang back—,
“Are you sure, my boy? I’ll go with you—”,
And Billy seeing sweet potatoes sticking out of hot ashes, and other luxuries in evidence, concluded that some business was “doin’ among the girls,” where he wouldn’t be welcome. He went back to the “Front,” where some of the contractors were having a violent altercation over the meaning of certain specifications. The Boss soon arbitrated successfully, and things moved “lively” for a short time, when the[55] banging of a dishpan announced dinner at “the hotel.”,
Betty, feeling that further explanations were worse than useless, submitted to be led to the sink where her energetic foster-mother subjected her to so many soapy treatments that in a few minutes time she emerged very red in the face but purified.
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Bouncer tied? That red handkerchief! The boy went cold and pale. Before he looked he knew that May Nell was not there. He turned his white face to the others as they came up.,
At this moment a wild whoop was heard, and through the open door Moses could be seen dashing out of the corral gate on his cow-pony.,
“You’d think this here day’s trip to Calgary was a journey to Jeroosalem,” he complained, all his slips of paper used up in jottings to remind him of duties imposed.,
As the door into the dining-room opened to the little guests, St. Elmo Mifsud’s eyes almost darted out of his head, for there on the centre of a bountifully-spread table stood an enormous chocolate cake with eleven candles burning on it. The revelation supplied a fitting climax for the epochal event of a thrilling picture show.
“They’d look purtier, Glory, ef you’d put more colors in,” commented Mrs. Wopp.
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“But where does our fun come in? Girls don’t build railroads,” Bess complained.
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“And there are many times when the duty itself is disagreeable, yet doing it brings a finer joy than shirking it ever could bring.”
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He tidied himself, bade his mother good-bye, and followed the girls to rehearsal.
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Halin-Chen Response,
>“And what’s the ‘chinning’ to be about?” she questioned, sitting on the bedside; “the fortune?”
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