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CHAPTER XVII.—A SAMPLE OF EBENEZER WOPP’S IRE. Through the Stygian darkness of the loft loomed the figure of Mrs. Wopp, a white apron of huge dimensions indicating her presence. She made as though to descend the ladder. “It’s my fault, too, Mrs. Bennett; don’t put the blame all on Billy,” Jean half sobbed; and hurried after him..
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Conrad
“No matter, Billy. I think she was sent to us; and we shall find a way. Are the chickens fed?” “Here Mosey,” said Betty, “is a tin crown. You can fasten it on with this wire. See?” IT was a gray, cold day, unusual for May, the kind of day that accords with ill-nature. It reminded Billy of the incident of the opera when Rain and Storm, driven by his own insistence, had blown in on the stage quite out of season, and dragged off with them the remnants of winter. For the first Sunday since May Nell’s coming he took his wheel after dinner and went off alone. He was in accord with the sullen sky and air. In the morning he had answered his mother angrily; because Bouncer wished to play instead of coming through the gate when called, Billy had slammed it on his tail, knowing well that in a happier mood he would have been more careful. “An orful good-natured tied-in-at-the-waist critter, aint it?” commented Moses..
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