“They’d look purtier, Glory, ef you’d put more colors in,” commented Mrs. Wopp.,
All but May Nell; when Edith and Mrs. Bennett rubbed and warmed her she declared she didn’t need it, and was so absorbed in lamenting the loss of the Fair Ellen, she could think of nothing else.,
“Now, Mosey, Mar’d be as mad as a wet hen ef she heard you. I want two bits to give to the heathens in Arfrica an’ Mar don’t pay me fer doin’ chores like she pays you. Wisht I was a boy.”,
“I’m ever so hungry, Mumsie.” As she spoke, Isobel glanced at Moses who was sitting dumbfounded before the dainty girl he was meeting for the first time. His face was scarlet; his ears were by nature stiffly folded forward and the light shining through them from an electric globe on the wall made them now glow like red shells.
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The old man peered over the steps, and Moses recognized the loose-jointed long-limbed individual who had provided him with such mirth on the previous day.,
The man faced her abruptly. “The devil he knows!”,
The travellers passed on; he righted his wheel and began his slow, painful way home. It was still cloudy and the welcome darkness setting in early, shrouded him as he slipped down the least public streets and alleys to his own side gate. He put his wheel away, fed his chickens,—though they had gone to roost,—went to the cellar and brought meat and milk for dog and cats, and reconnoitred the way to the Fo’castle.,
“The Lord loveth a cheerful liver, Moses,” said his mother encouragingly, as she saw the growing acidity of the boy’s countenance. Mrs. Wopp had never forgotten a certain missionary service, during which she had studied a text in gold lettering of old English type on the wall. The uncertain light of stained glass falling on the last word had made it difficult to read. But at last realizing that a sound liver and cheerfulness are closely associated, she had seen no incongruity in her translation of the text.
A period of silence followed excepting for the slight sounds made by the workers, the drowsy humming of flies, the murmur of an occasional bee and the faint rustlings of the tall stalks of corn.
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“What happened to you, Billy?” she asked when he entered the kitchen. “For a second I was frightened when I went to wake you and found you gone.”
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“Avaunt, hesitating noddy! The angel child is quite safe!” Bess waved an arm, partly bare and brown in spots.
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School having been closed a week for repairs Miss Gordon had brought Betty to the shining city of her childish dreams.
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Halin-Chen Response,
>“Do you like it, Sunday School, I mean? I don’t. I like church, though,—the great booming organ, the beautiful singing. And when the minister speaks I just float away into fairy-land and never come back till he says, ‘The-Lord-make-his-face-to-shine-upon-us-amen.’”
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