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Presently Clarence caught up to him and bore him down a side street lest further attempts at apology should cause him to again accost the irate stranger. “Betty’s not goin’ to no kingdom come yet,” assured Mrs. Wopp, her optimism rising like a star of the first magnitude to lighten the darkness of her son’s midnight sky. This small boy seemed to accept the limitations of his lot with a Micawber-like philosophy. Indeed it may easily have escaped his youthful notice, that there were persons in the world who did not have to spend a day in bed while their clothing was being washed. To Mannel a second set of garments, even of so simple a character as those he constantly wore, would have seemed untold wealth..

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That preliminary march was not without adventure. The “howdah” on the White Elephant where May Nell rode as the Fair Princess of Bombay, became loose and threatened to spill its small bit of royalty. And when Harold cinched the thing tighter the old cow bellowed so the smaller children broke and ran. However, they were soon back, and the procession halted at Mrs. Lancaster’s front gate in fair order. But when she saw the imposing string of wagons, children, and animals, known and unknown, she was afraid to trust her precious Buzz to them. The infant class which was to be under the guidance of Mrs. Wopp for the day, consisted of seven small pupils. They were seated on a low bench in one corner of the church. Green denim curtains were hung in such a way that, after the preliminary devotional exercises, the little class could be screened from the adults and older pupils. A blackboard stood on the floor, and upon a table near by were many colored crayons. The infantile mind required such aids to the imagination. Thus adjured, Howard began, while Mrs. Wopp leaned back in her chair rocking vigorously. If he had been older he would have said he had “the blues.” Yet probably he would not have known that his mental—and physical—condition was a natural result of the long strain of previous weeks. All the children felt it. That morning the cousins, Clarence and Harry, who loved each other dearly, had come to blows in the Sunday School room before the teachers arrived, over the question of which one of them should marry Miss Edith. Clarence received a bloody scratch the full length of his palm from Harry’s Band of Mercy pin; while the careful parting disappeared from his own hair, and a red splotch marred the whiteness of his wide collar. No one can tell what further calamity might have happened had not the Twins opportunely arrived and questioned of the quarrel..