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In the house, meanwhile, affairs were proceeding quite as happily as those out of doors. The hostess fluctuated between the parlor and kitchen. She was preparing a repast not only for the workers present, but also for the men-folk who would presently arrive to take them to their respective homes. Excused from quilting, she nevertheless managed to spend considerable time with her guests. Mrs. Mifsud was a lady who aspired to literary attainments. She had read “Beulah,” “Vashti,” “Lucile,” “St. Elmo” and many other books of like calibre. She felt that her talents were practically wasted, living in what she termed a desert, yet she strove, when occasion offered, by elegance of deportment and conversation to enhance her gifts. She often spoke tenderly of the late Mr. Mifsud who, in spite of the fact that his face had been adorned with bristling side-whiskers of an undeniable red, had shown in other ways some signs of intelligence and feeling. He had been carried off by the shingles. According to Mrs. Mifsud’s account, her deeply-lamented spouse had considered the tall attenuated form of his wife “willowy,” her long thin black hair “a crown of glory,” her worn narrow countenance with its sharp nose and coal-black eyes, “seraphic.”,

“Yeh Mar, I’m comin’.”,

“What does that mean?” queried Moses.,

“Mudgie never saw any fairies,” replied Mrs. Mifsud, “But she is glad St. Elmo can see them.”

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“There isn’t any Maskey’s any more,” May Nell mourned; “just ashes and old irons where used to be such oceans of goodies in such beautiful boxes and dishes.”,

Before he emerged from the leafy path Billy heard well-known whining, and wondered why the dog didn’t come to meet him. The next instant he saw him straining against his bonds.,

“Yes; but I’m afraid my papa’s dead, he’s been gone so long.” How she hated that word “kid.”,

but not the strong log house where——” He hesitated, and May Nell quoted on glibly,