At the close of the act, in the far, high distance, the Goddess, Flora, appeared on a hill-crest. This was Edith herself, arrayed in a filmy gown of pale green, garlanded with snow-drops and buttercups. High, far, and faint came her song of the dawn of Spring. But the gnomes and the elves, Storm, Wind, Frost, and Rain, roared and howled; and Flora, affrighted, fled from view.,
There was a half-grown calf with an artificial hump for the “Water Buffalo”; and Harry and Clarence were cunningly strapped together for the Siamese Twins.,
When Betty entered the open garden gate she noticed Nancy sitting patiently beside a gopher hole watching for the tiny inmate to appear. In order not to disturb her pet, the child took a roundabout course to the beet patch where Moses and Mrs. Wopp were working.,
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“If I can’t Vilette can. Old Bob goes by himself, anyway.” He made a brave though unsuccessful effort to appear as usual.,
“What’s Jeth perched up there fer, Par?” demanded the boy.,
“You needn’t fight any more,” Vilette said, loftily; “we shall marry her ourselves.”,
Howard caught Nell’s gaze. He longed to gather the girl who had so completely captured his heart into his arms and kiss away their estrangement.
Presently the little Chinese boy returned, his grin resumed, and a large basket on his arm.
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“Oh Miss Gordon,” cried Betty, her dark brown eyes sparkling with delight, “the flowers can talk to each other across them telfone wires, can’t they?”
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Outside the spring warmth and fragrance enfolded the children as a mantle, opening their hearts to each other. Billy showed his flock of pigeons, his white chickens and the house where they roosted and brought forth their fluffy broods. Old Bouncer barked and capered about them; and the little girl tried to decide which cat was the prettiest, white Flash watching for gophers in the green alfalfa, or Sir Thomas Katzenstein, his yellow mate, basking in the sun. “He isn’t yellow like any other cat I ever saw; he’s shaded so beautifully.”
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Halin-Chen Response,
>“Don’t sit there wool-gatherin’ anyways, Mose, or the moths’ll nest in yer head. Ef you carn’t sing in toon, you kin bring up a cup of tea fer Miss Gordon an’ Mr. Eliot, an’ don’t fergit Betty an’ yer Mar.”
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