Mrs. Wopp was floored. She rapidly reflected that that which Mrs. Mifsud had heard might have been anything from the “buzzin’ of a skeeter to the tootin’ of an autermobyle.”,
Her disappointment over Moses’ parsimony led her now to see the urgent necessity of ideas, vital ideas, in fact, ideas that could cause silver to flow to her empty coffers, or in other words her missionary box.,
All were silent for a little. Most of them had been more than once to San Francisco’s celebrated dealer in sweets.,
Bess’s coming launched the procession. People in the vicinity who had not before known of the presence of a circus, knew it now. Everybody talked at once, and every living thing made its own kind of a noise. Billy as Master of Ceremonies had his hands full, his voice full too, one might say.
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Moses Wopp, not quite reconciled to this unexpected order of things, as it seemed to involve a protracted fast for his already clamoring stomach, nevertheless made haste to obey his father’s instructions. Josh and Jake were quickly unhitched and led into the stable. They were accommodated with a mangerful of hay, which they immediately fell to munching. Moses then ran after Mr. Wopp and Clarence, who were already busily searching the wooded banks of the creek, thoroughly scrutinizing the underbrush, which in some places was exceedingly dense and tangled. Within the next half-hour they were joined by four other men, despatched by Mrs. Mifsud, and the whole party proceeded slowly and carefully down the creek, some one of the number occasionally shouting the name of the lost boy.,
“Sometimes yes an’ orftener no. I’d hate to leave Betty an’ the pinto.”,
“Singe my hair ef I do, let’s hev some more doin’s,” rebelled Moses.,
“Never mind Mosey, Next Monday I’m goin’ to ask Mar to let me stay home and turn the nasty mouldy machine.”
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“I’ll lick you good and plenty,” answered the man, his face purple with indignation. Whereupon Moses, overcome utterly with mirth, lost his own balance and rubbed his freckled nose along a shining streak of slippery pavement.
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“Good-by Dad and Mar and Mosey,” called Betty as she sped down the path toward the school-house.
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“Clarence will tell the men where to instal their teams,” the hostess reflected. The boy, who had fought shy of this mere woman’s party, had spent the afternoon in the barn.
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>CHAPTER VIII.—BETTY VISITS THE CITY OF HER DREAMS.
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