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“Oh, I s’pose she can, only a fellow doesn’t expect it of her. How came you out here? I thought you’d be watching for refugees.” “Mose, hoi’ this benighted idjit of a jint till I drive a nail in the wall to wire it up,” called Mr. Wopp, thrusting a nail between his teeth and turning his back on his wife. CHAPTER XIII.—MOSES GAINS PRESTIGE..

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“Did you hev a good time in the city larst week, Mis’ Mifsud?” asked Mrs. Wopp, politely. “Arsk a blessin’, Ebenezer.” The Wopp parlor was seldom entered, except on very special occasions or when Mrs. Wopp with formality and no undue haste dusted the furniture. The room had an air of solemnity and gloom, absent in the cheerful dining-room where the family usually sat. A homemade rag carpet covered the floor. Six slippery, horsehair chairs, one of them a rocker, and a horsehair couch, which did not invite confidence, were ranged stiffly around the sides of the room. In one corner was an ancient organ, wheezy and querulous with neglect, and in another stood a lofty what-not, on whose numerous shelves were deposited the family treasures. Here, was a woolly lamb at one time beloved of Moses; there his tin savings bank. Stiffly upright stood Betty’s wax doll Hannah, seldom played with and then only for a few minutes at a time. Mrs. Wopp was represented by a few shell boxes and a match box of china flanked by a sleek china cat. “Well, he ain’t dead; he’s alive and bully, with a wad that bulges. I’m going to take you to him.”.