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“But if your steamer works you don’t want its secrets peddled round; and girls always blab.” “You look orful, jist like you was growin’ a pair of speckled toothbrushes. What ’ll Mar say? You carn’t go to school like that.” “Now, Mose, fer the elbow. Stiddy! Don’t shove! Don’t pull! Hole her stiddy!”.

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“Have more toast Glory,” said Moses suddenly wakened. Unwrapping his leg from the rung of the chair, he reached across the table. Down the road came a democrat. In the front seat sat Mr. and Mrs. Wopp resplendent in Sunday attire and both wearing bouquets of bright nasturtiums. Behind them sat Moses and Betty also dressed in their best. Moses was cogitating, “Its a blessin’ Betty’s eyebrows hev growed out. She cut an orful figger without them.” Keeping pace with the democrat; but roving here and there in search of gophers ran Jethro enjoying himself mightily. A mile or two down the creek the searching party sought diligently for the little lost boy. Moses was in the lead. He had announced his adamant resolve to find St. Elmo, or perform the irrevocable feat of “bustin’.” He cherished an idea of his own as to the child’s whereabouts. A few weeks previously, on an all-day excursion, Moses had played pirates with St. Elmo and they had utilized a most delectable earthy cave for their game. By this time Moses’ plate was piled high with a steaming and odoriferous portion of Fuji Yama and he was content to postpone all discussions of Geography and fowls to an indefinite future. In a very few minutes, the entire mound had disappeared and Moses was polishing his plate with a piece of bread..