The child reared without pets was delighted with the animal life about her; the cats, old Bouncer, the white chickens, and pigeons cooing in the loft.,
“Mary Ellen Smith; but my mama calls me May Nell; and she says—she says ‘kid’ is vulgar.” The last words were very shy.,
The first act over, a troop of black-faced comedians occupied the stage.
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“Light the stove, Mose, an’ git the house het up. Mis’ Williams must of been froze to a cinder yesterday when she was here. That stove did nothin’ but smoke till our eyes leaked. I expected every minute to see her turn into an iced berg. Do you know, Ebenezer, Mis’ Williams told me that Mrs. Frame’s sister married the oldest son of Mr. Frame an’ his first wife.”,
Moses’ intuition regarding St. Elmo’s retreat proved to be correct, and it was a sadly dejected countenance on which he gazed when he looked into the cave. Tears, dirt, and the juice of Saskatoon berries mingled on the fair sleeping face of the child, until he seemed to be the very Cree Indian he had so often personated in his play. His long curls were tangled and matted with small twigs. His diminutive brown velvet coat displayed a large rent in the elbow through which oozed a pathetic-looking suppuration of pink and white checked shirt.,
Mrs. Mifsud threw up her hands in dismay.,
“But, Billy, Tom opens it for him! He climbs up, gets his nose in, and the largest part of himself; then he crowds along as hard as he can, and calls to Flash, ‘The way is clear; come’;—you needn’t laugh; he says it just as plain as words,” she protested. “And Flash springs up, creeps through, and jumps to the floor, with Tom after him; and the screen slaps to with a big noise. I’ve seen them do it three times this week. Isn’t that a wonder?”
Awakened to the fact of her son’s existence and perhaps as an antidote to her unusual display of sentiment, Mrs. Wopp spoke rather sharply. “Moses, time you an’ Betty was in bed. You won’t want to git up in the mornin’ an’ milk the cows.” Later left alone in the lower part of the house she stood arms akimbo in the middle of the kitchen gazing at the door through which Nell Gordon had just departed. Shaking her head she said mysteriously, “I kalkerlate as how things is a-settin’ in that way.”
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The child was “boiling inside,” yet she believed Bouncer’s life depended on her obedience. And anyway, Billy would come in a minute. Oh, why wasn’t he there now!
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“Train? Is she going away?” The small girl’s face grew sorrowful.
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CHAPTER XVII.—A SAMPLE OF EBENEZER WOPP’S IRE.
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>“Do you need it right away?” Billy stood his wheel against the steps and flung his books on the porch table.
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