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She put back his tumbled hair, looked long into his eyes, realizing with a shock that she was looking up. Her little boy was gone.,

Half an hour later Charley went back to the disappointed remnants of the show gathered in Jimmy’s barn, and told them Mrs. Carter had said, “no more circus this day for Bess.” Buzz and his laughing Chinese had been hurried to safety. The Roc had shed a part of his false feathers, and was fast giving himself away as plain gander. The White Elephant had also become restive, and it was thought best to transfer the Fair Princess of Bombay from her howdah to terra firma. And the Goddess of Liberty, minus her car, and a part of her draperies, and plus a big smooch on her cheek, was somehow not very imposing. Various other livestock became weary or rebellious, and the Siamese Twins had to be severed to prevent their coming to blows.,

In the house, meanwhile, affairs were proceeding quite as happily as those out of doors. The hostess fluctuated between the parlor and kitchen. She was preparing a repast not only for the workers present, but also for the men-folk who would presently arrive to take them to their respective homes. Excused from quilting, she nevertheless managed to spend considerable time with her guests. Mrs. Mifsud was a lady who aspired to literary attainments. She had read “Beulah,” “Vashti,” “Lucile,” “St. Elmo” and many other books of like calibre. She felt that her talents were practically wasted, living in what she termed a desert, yet she strove, when occasion offered, by elegance of deportment and conversation to enhance her gifts. She often spoke tenderly of the late Mr. Mifsud who, in spite of the fact that his face had been adorned with bristling side-whiskers of an undeniable red, had shown in other ways some signs of intelligence and feeling. He had been carried off by the shingles. According to Mrs. Mifsud’s account, her deeply-lamented spouse had considered the tall attenuated form of his wife “willowy,” her long thin black hair “a crown of glory,” her worn narrow countenance with its sharp nose and coal-black eyes, “seraphic.”,

Fight gleamed in the big man’s eye, and for the breath of an instant he hesitated.

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Involved and intricate variations of “Holy smoke!” made the air sulphureous as a swaying piece of wire caught his shoulder and tore a large gash in his shirt.,

“Please did the lot hurt Joner when it fell?” queried a sober-minded seeker of truth.,

“Mebbe them new seed catalogue folks cheated us, Mar,” he suggested.,

Jean and the twins, Charley, George and some others, rattled down the stairs; while Clarence and Harry stood rigid, with wooden scymitars drawn, one on each side of the door.