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CHAPTER XVII THE DREAD DAY DAWNS "Nice boys don't fight." Billy shifted his feet uneasily, the movement bringing him a step or two closer to the other. Mrs. Wilson looked out of the window and considered. "Let's see. That leaves little Louie the only girl among all of you boys, so we'll jest have to have another girl er two. How'd you like to have Ann Spencer and Phoebe Scraff?".

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"You are quite right," said Captain Weaver. "Guns would only be in our way, and sarve to check the beauty, which we don't want." "Very well, Walter, you may go home and get a pail of water. My experience with school wells," glancing out of the window to the blue pump, "has been that during the holidays they become a veritable death trap for frogs, mice and other vermin." "Lucy, my dear," exclaimed Miss Acton, "play 'Now, Goody, Please to Moderate,' or 'My Lodging is on the Cold Ground,' or 'Sally in our Alley.' I do not care which. They are all very beautiful, and I know no song, brother, that carries me back like 'Sally in our Alley.' Do you remember how finely our father used to sing it? He was at Dr Burney's one night, sir," said she, talking to Mr Lawrence, "when a famous Italian singer of that day—who was it now?—she was as yellow as a guinea, and her hoops were so large there were many doors she could not pass through—who was it now? But no matter; after my father had sung she stepped over to him, and curtsying as though she would sit before him, she said: 'I have often heard this song sung and thought nothing of it. But now, sir, I shall ever regard it as the loveliest composition in English music.'" Mrs. Wilson could scarcely believe her ears. "You don't mean that havin' took him you had any thoughts of keepin' him, Willium?" she managed to say..