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To his mother and sister Billy seemed changed. He stuck closer to his books. His teacher told them the boy stood at the head of his class. “Jimmy Dorr may be a rival if he feels like work, which isn’t probable. Jean’s accident last year put her behind, otherwise the boys would have to work much harder if either excelled her.” Yet even these welcome words did not account for some things the mother quietly observed; Billy’s growing promptness, better attention, and memory for matters outside of play. He was more silent, too; and there was less hammering and whistling in the shop. “Yes, Captain,” she answered, her eyes aglow while she smoothed refractory frills. She wore a wonderful trailing robe of tissue paper, “ruffled to the guards,” Billy said. On her head was a towering cap of the same; and a light wind bellied out her wide angel sleeves like sails before a spanking breeze. “O Billy,” his mother laughed, “you need not decide to-night. Besides, it was all Bess’s nonsense. I can’t quite imagine my heedless boy in a pulpit.”.

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Moses adored his little foster-sister when she was well; but sick, his adoration turned to blind worship. For several days Betty had been ill. Moses’ religion, bottled up during care-free days, burst forth in foam of intercession for Betty’s return to health. “They’re a regular Damon and Pythias, aren’t they? And we’ll have Flash for the Polar Bear, in the circus, and Tom for the Royal Bengal Tiger, the baby tiger, you know.” “Hello, Billy! You washin’ floors?” There was a sneer in Jimmy’s voice. St. Elmo looked at the specimens in his hand. “These pansies is most deaded. I fink I’ll fwow them away,” he declared..