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Lila Williams, with her dark curls falling over a pale blue gingham dress, stood watching the proceedings with impatience. She was yearning to burst into speech. As soon as St. Elmo’s cries were reduced to intermittent gum-droppy sobs she turned to Betty, and looking up trustfully into her brown eyes, she launched forth. Moses stared, wondering at this unusual compliment. “Oh, the kids’—boys’ dogs are mostly old or else too fat to run, like Bouncer. I guess the rabbit can get away,—too soon, perhaps. We’ll have you for Fair Ellen.”.
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Before answering, Mr. Wopp solemnly handed Moses first the reins then the dog, after which he slowly and carefully descended himself. A gleeful yell greeted his paraphrase. While they ate it all came out, how they had planned and executed. Harold had peas and strawberries hidden in his mysterious basket, freshly gathered by his own hands that morning. George and Jimmy had furnished and dressed the chickens, and the girls had roasted them—with a little supervision from Mrs. Bennett—in the Yukon camping stove that belonged to Harry’s mother. Bess had given the dishes, blue and white enamel, strong as well as good to the eye, and ready for many another frolic. “Mrs. Bennett, you must unpack it alone, mamma said.” When the house was reached, Eliza Wopp was standing, an effective barricade, at the door, waving her large hands in a gesture indicative of dismay. Moses stoically told his tale of assault..
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