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“There ain’t a shadder of a doubt Moses takes arter his Par in the gift of the gab,” was Mrs. Wopp’s genial rejoinder. Everything was going smoothly when suddenly a catastrophe stopped short the circus, and left Moses greatly distressed. He inwardly complained that never yet was he “havin’ a good time but some orful thing happened to put a cloud over the sun.” The hens and chickens that had been pressed into the ranks of the circus performers were crowding round a swill-bucket which Moses had left tilted at a precarious angle on an upturned soap-box. In its zig-zag gyrations round the yard, the ostrich, to avoid the ubiquitous fowl, ran against the bucket and the odoriferous contents were splashed over the yellow-draped circus lady. The contents of the swill-pail trickled down Betty’s finery and dropped sadly from the pink headgear of the ostrich. “How much will you pay fer them fer my missionary box?” bargained the child. “Will four shinin’ new quarters do?”.

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“How nice, Betty,” answered Nell, who had threaded her needle and was now prepared to join those already busily stitching away. “You and I will travel down the ages side by side.” “Suppose you go down to the creek,” she replied with a peculiar smile. “May Nell and the twins went there some time ago. Harold, too.” “Now Mis’ Stephens, call the boys,” requested Mrs. Wopp who was the busiest of the group. Next followed a buckboard gaily painted red. Mrs. Mifsud and her daughter Maria aged fourteen who had taken a “quarter” of music lessons and was now the organist of the church, were occupants. Between them was wedged the pet of the family St. Elmo Mifsud a child of four. St. Elmo wore long chestnut curls and an angelic expression. Clarence Egerton Crump, Mrs. Mifsud’s nephew who was visiting his aunt and cousins, accompanied the family on his wheel..