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Job, his ardor undampened by the strangeness of this reception, made haste to follow.,

Every morning during the summer a bunch of morning-glories, wet with dew, adorned the breakfast table. Blue and pink and white, they seemed the very spirit of morning freshness and sweetness.,

Molly enjoyed the attentions of Betty and contentedly chewed her cud. Whenever Betty leaned forward to caress the camel, Molly rolled out some square inches of tongue and licked the glowing cheek of her little mistress. An altogether adorable if somewhat familiar camel was the old black cow.,

When Betty returned from school in the afternoon, she beheld snowy billowing apparel on the clothes-line. Mrs. Wopp, being very thrifty in the matter of using up flour and sugar sacks for underwear, had a motley collection of garments suspended by wooden pegs. A night-shirt of Mr. Wopp’s bore the inscription “Three Roses” dimly outlined in pink, while on the southern portion of a pair of more intimate garments could be discerned, fading into palest blue. “Great Western Mills.” The wind was causing a riotous time among the cheerful array of reconstructed sacks, and as Betty ran down the path singing “Twenty froggies went to school,” a sugar sack sleeve of Moses’ shirt embraced a flour sack bosom of his father’s undergarment; and “Pure Cane Sugar“ saluted “Ogiveme’s Mills.” Betty cheerfully performed her task of bringing in the clothes saturated with wind and sunshine. She thought the sweetest smell in the world next to morning-glories and nasturtiums was the smell of clean clothes fresh from the line.

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“You’re a plucky kid, all right,” he replied, touched more than he would have admitted. “I won’t hurt the dog if you do as I tell you.” He looked for a cord or rope, but found none, and pulled from his pocket a red handkerchief. “Tie this around his neck; let one end hang down.”,

“Gosh! Wisht Betty was here right this minute. Mebbe I’m dyin’. Hope nobody starts twangin’ a harp. My nose is worser’n ever!”,

But a second idea came that made him fidget about the room, lift his bandage and watch the children on their way to school. His record for attendance for the year had so far been perfect. He knew that he owed it partly to his mother’s tireless watch of the clock, and wondered why he had not realized this before. Now it was to be broken; she would be as sorry as he could be; and it would have counted well toward the prize. He tried to calculate how many days he could be absent and still have left some chance of it. The work was all reviewing, he almost knew it, anyway. If he only had his books,—but no, they wouldn’t let him use his eyes.,

“Please,” answered the discomfited youth, “I aint never seen a ship of no kind.”