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“Billy, you’re a wise guy. This beats Maskey’s,” Harold declared. “Sister, she’ll be hunkey for the fairy queen in your Spring Festival, won’t she? She’s a regular progidy, isn’t she?” Billy’s eyes shone. CHAPTER XIX.—BETTY’S ILLNESS..

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Relieved, yet with his nerves quivering Billy plunged into the deep woods of the higher altitudes. The air was unusually hot and stifling, and his eyes watered. “Fire in the woods somewhere,” he murmured, recognizing the odor of smoke. “Thought I’d eloped? I ought to when I’ve brought you an extra mouth to feed.” He was splashing and spluttering in the lavatory off the kitchen. “Must of warlked in when I left a jint outside fer a minute. She shore is a dark complected bird now.” As Moses spoke he stretched out his arm for the sooty Tillie, but with an indignant cackle the hen tore through the dining-room into the kitchen with Moses and Betty in hot pursuit. “They’d look purtier, Glory, ef you’d put more colors in,” commented Mrs. Wopp..