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“Won’t you sing something else, Mrs. Wopp.” Nell was growing uncomfortable under Betty’s reference to the unburnished state of her cloud.,

Mr. Wopp and Moses, who had hurried to the upper storey to escape the recital of the ketchup episode, now came heavily down the stairs, their task at last finished.,

“Please, Mister, my nose was bleedin’ an’ I lorst my way lookin’ fer warter, an’ here I am on Jording’s stormy banks.”,

A dull yellow glow from the kerosene lamp, placed by Moses on the bureau, lighted up the figure of Betty reclining on snowy pillows. On one side of her was seated Howard, his arm about the drowsy child. On the side of the bed, squarely seated on one of Mrs. Wopp’s texts worked into the patchwork quilt, was Nell, watching the little pallid face and trying to avoid the eyes of her silent lover.

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“What’ll I sing Betty?”,

“Hurry up, Buzz!” Billy called as he raced by from the shop, where he had been for the oil can to fill the boat’s reservoir.,

He was soon at the “lodge of ample size” made the week before, not of “strong logs” but of old fence-rails and willow twigs. He wondered if the girls would be able to imagine it a “lodge,” or if May Nell and Jean, who were to come a little later, could fix it according to the poem.,

Bess, an only child, was usually present at the[59] frequent entertainments her parents gave, and was familiar with some of the more formal table customs. She wished Billy’s dinner to have every dignity, and to this end rose and proposed a toast to him. They drank it standing, with cheers. And Billy, accustomed to having the largest voice in every noise, stood and joined lustily; till Jackson, who helped his father at the catering for lodge banquets, and knew a thing or two, reached behind Jean and pulled the back of Billy’s coat violently. “Pst! Set down!” he hissed, tragically.