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“I think you’ve broke my neck, kid,” he said, feebly, as quaking Billy helped him to his feet. That was not difficult, for the soft silk slipped into a knot as strong as if tied in hemp. St. Elmo cast about in his mind for some plausible explanation of his recent panic. It would never do to inform the world that he had been afraid of a mere turkey..
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“Come, Jethro, Betty’ll carry her li’l white puppykins, pore li’l footsy’s so sore.” In front of the stone steps that led up to the barred door he hesitated; but the dog raced round to the rear. Instantly Billy followed. Thus adjured, Howard began, while Mrs. Wopp leaned back in her chair rocking vigorously. As that energetic lady bustled about the kitchen the same evening setting the bread, her voice rose in a series of trills and other embellishments as she sang “Where is my wanderin’ boy to-night?”.
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