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“O Billy,” his mother laughed, “you need not decide to-night. Besides, it was all Bess’s nonsense. I can’t quite imagine my heedless boy in a pulpit.” The man swore and looked for a cudgel. CHAPTER II THE SATURDAY GANG.

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Cautiously he crept nearer the door, stopping at each step to listen, to look again at the worker above. He was at the very corner of the house when voices sounded from within. He started, his breath coming quicker. He caught no words, but knew by the “ginger” in the tones that the speakers were angry. Shuffling steps came up the stairway and turned toward the rear. Mrs. Wopp obligingly gave as an encore, “There were ninety and nine,” apropos of nothing whatever. Then turning to a portrait on the wall, she enlarged on the musical ability of a great-uncle from whom she reckoned she had received her gift of song. “Orl right, you rascalashus coaxer, an’ go make some tea an’ fetch some crackers an’ cheese an’ we’ll orl hev a bite.” “It came to me feet foremost, I guess, and soaked the quilt in instalments. I had a tough dream, too; couldn’t wake up in the middle. I dreamed I was on a ship in a bang-up storm, and the vessel lunged like a bucking horse.”.