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“I guess he didn’t say ‘lick,’ Billy.”,

“I’m tho thorry, I wanted to hear more about the fairieth.” Lila Williams would have braved the elements to listen to more of Betty’s original stories.,

In the midst of these reflections, the trombone player of the orchestra came to him.,

“Now ef you would jist play ‘Home Sweet Home’ with variations, my dear, we’ll arterwards hev a game of crokinole. Crokinole is sich an amusin’ game.”

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The service began and was proceeding with its accustomed smoothness and decorum when a most unseemly interruption occurred. Maria Mifsud had long entertained suspicions that all was not well with the interior of the organ. Lately a few of the notes had refused to make a sound, and to-day there seemed to be more of these delinquents than ever. While Mr. Bliggins was collecting the offering Maria began to play a voluntary carefully practised beforehand. She had fairly launched into “One Sweetly Solemn Thought” when suddenly she discerned peering curiously at her through one of the round holes which adorn the front of the instrument the small bright eye of a mouse. The intruder was apparently quite calm and self-possessed. Not so Maria. With a piercing shriek she jumped from the organ stool and rushing to the back of the church leaped wildly to the seat beside her scandalized and uncomprehending mother. Almost at the same moment the offending mouse scampered down the internal anatomy of the organ and gained freedom through an exit beside the pedals. Mr. Wells turned crimson and stood on one foot. Most of the ladies of the congregation drew their feet up on the seat beside them. The mouse ran furiously along the sacred aisles of the church.,

“I dassent do it, Betty,” replied Moses. “Anyhow this ole pair of scissors ’d do the job better.”,

“Mary Ellen Smith; but my mama calls me May Nell; and she says—she says ‘kid’ is vulgar.” The last words were very shy.,

“Light the stove, Mose, an’ git the house het up. Mis’ Williams must of been froze to a cinder yesterday when she was here. That stove did nothin’ but smoke till our eyes leaked. I expected every minute to see her turn into an iced berg. Do you know, Ebenezer, Mis’ Williams told me that Mrs. Frame’s sister married the oldest son of Mr. Frame an’ his first wife.”