If he had been older he would have said he had “the blues.” Yet probably he would not have known that his mental—and physical—condition was a natural result of the long strain of previous weeks. All the children felt it. That morning the cousins, Clarence and Harry, who loved each other dearly, had come to blows in the Sunday School room before the teachers arrived, over the question of which one of them should marry Miss Edith. Clarence received a bloody scratch the full length of his palm from Harry’s Band of Mercy pin; while the careful parting disappeared from his own hair, and a red splotch marred the whiteness of his wide collar. No one can tell what further calamity might have happened had not the Twins opportunely arrived and questioned of the quarrel.,
As he climbed down, reaching from branch to branch, very cautiously, he knew not why, he was suddenly halted by the sound of low voices. Carefully he crept nearer. A tiny hut came in view, with an open door, and the glint of fire within. A man was standing outside, smoking a pipe, yet wearing hat, coat, and gloves, as if about to set off. He was very large. His clothes were new and showy, too bright in color, too large of check. His watch chain was massive; the big diamond out of place with his colored shirt; and the soft silk handkerchief he drew from his pocket was a brilliant red, and the largest Billy had ever seen. Another man, in the doorway, was smaller and bareheaded. His sleeves were rolled up, and his hands were stained.,
By this time Mr. Wopp was bearing a length of pipe into the yard. The parlor looked like a morgue with its inanimate objects lying bidden under sheets and cloths of varying degrees of past usefulness. Through a hole of one sheet could be seen the listless towzled head of Hannah, her faded wax countenance betraying the need of a tonic.,
It was not the hour for ghosts, they must be real people. Billy encouraged himself with that thought and wished he could wait for further disclosures. Did the sun ever before go down so fast? He hastened to find his wheel and can, and set out at his best pace.
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“Howard Eliot may larf, but I think these writin’s is real clever.” Mrs. Wopp grew thoughtful, “Moses’ Aunt Lucindy’s cousin, by marriage, had talents fer literatoor. But the pore girl married an undertaker an’ she writ no more.”,
“But Mrs. Carter’ll expect—” Billy began, yet stopped, for the physician was laughing.,
“Wisht that orful pitcher ’d fall inter the swill-pail an’ then turn a somerset in the soot-pile,” murmured the boy as he noticed the care exercised over its safety.,
If he was more thoughtful, quiet, at home, his hours of play were more keenly enjoyed as they grew daily fewer. He had found a “dandy job” that would not take him away from home; he could still mow the lawn, and do the chores. He was glad now that he had learned various parts of the housework, for he was to be janitor and messenger at one of the banks, a fact to be told his mother as a surprise on the last day of school.
After supper, Betty was sought diligently, but without success. At last Moses discovered her underneath the huge red tablecloth that covered the dining-room table. She was sound asleep on the floor with Jethro in her arms and his head on her bosom. Her face was smeared with tear-stains.
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“Don’t worry me Mosey, this is a ’portant day,” then turning to Miss Gordon she added, “I’ll take ’sturtiums an’ larkspur an’ sweet peas an’ you’ll be ever so happy lookin’ at them.” A busy silence ensued.
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“All over the house does she put them?” the child asked after she had snipped a fragrant heap.
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>“I am given to understand by the best fashion-plates, Mrs. Wopp, that the garment you term an ‘underwaist’ is now designated a casserole.”
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