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“Please did the lot hurt Joner when it fell?” queried a sober-minded seeker of truth. “Here are more beads of wampum, Betty, as I have no garden.” Nell Gordon’s silver donation added appreciably to the weight of the collection box. Nell’s mirth at Betty’s choice of a hymn could be stifled no longer. Howard’s studied aloofness yielded before her laughter and the hand that was not supporting Betty caught and pressed the small dimpled fingers of Nell..
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“Why doesn’t Billy come?” she asked of Bouncer; and the dog ran out of the door and stood on three legs, one forefoot lifted, his eyes fixed on the spot where Billy had disappeared. But no master was to be seen, and he went back to May Nell, whined, and put his nose on her knee. Locked up! The child’s heart beat stiflingly; yet she did not cry out; she thought self-control would win her more favor than tears. “I’ll get word from them in the morning. Don’t worry any more, but rest; sleep if you can. You can’t help them till you have helped yourself.” In the hours of joy that followed, joy known only to boys and farms in conjunction, Billy,—and it was unusual for him,—more than once recalled his mother’s words; heeded them to the extent of bidding Harold a reluctant good-bye when the sun was still blazing high above the horizon. But when, on his way home, he came to the branching of the road his good resolution weakened. He looked back. The sun was surely more than an hour high. He would have time to go up the hill road to the “Ha’nt.” And, beside that, he wished to look at the river where its divided flow encircled a tiny, shrub-grown island..
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