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“Where have you been, Billy Boy, Billy Boy? “Don’t look so, brother,” Edith said as she kissed him good-bye; “the ‘grub’ is making a fine boy, and I’m proud of him.” Yet as she tied her veil at the mirror she saw the cloud still lingering on his face. The child was gifted in this most elemental of the arts, and her histrionic ability carried along the interest of her listeners even when the printed matter on the back of the paper interfered with the clearness of the picture. Her imagination bolstered up the defects of dry facts..

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Her questions brought long and wonderful tales of Billy’s younger life; of Edith when she, too, was a little girl. The child helped to set the table, carried in bread, salad plates, and jelly. “It shakes like the fat woman at the circus when she laughed. How do you make jelly?” “Dear me, mother,” Edith said when Mrs. Bennett came in with hot cakes, “what shall we do with two children in dreamland?” Edith had not touched her breakfast, but was waiting on the others. “What does that mean?” queried Moses. Betty was still faintly laughing at Moses’ spirited retort to his mother’s observations on his singing..