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“Great Scott, boy! We’ll have to hurry. We must get up there before the fire gets down. Do you know the shortest way?” The first act of the unwilling recruit was to bring into the house a coal-scuttle and large shovel, clanking them ominously as he walked. “Bear up aft there!” Billy commanded; and “Ay, ay, sir,” came back in equally nautical language..

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This threatened catastrophe had considerable weight with St. Elmo who, in spite of Betty’s discouraging words, still had a lurking hope that he too might be privileged to see the “faywies” some day. Although he was badly handicapped in being a boy, yet in some miraculous manner there might be an exception made in his favor. “Yes, Mosey, I jist want to go to my mornin’-glory garding to tell it good-night.” She rubbed her sleepy tear-stained eyes. “Now, Mosey, Mar’d be as mad as a wet hen ef she heard you. I want two bits to give to the heathens in Arfrica an’ Mar don’t pay me fer doin’ chores like she pays you. Wisht I was a boy.” Enjoying the spectacle, Henry the pet rooster stood on the rail-fence crowing lustily in chanticleer derision..