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“Billy! My—boy!” Mrs. Bennett bent over him; and he felt a tear where her cheek touched his.,The child obeyed, but her fingers trembled; and Bouncer whined and licked her hand.,“Thank you Mr. Newman, you’re a prince.”,“Yes; but I’m afraid my papa’s dead, he’s been gone so long.” How she hated that word “kid.”,Al Newman arranged all the theatre parties for his wife and guests. He opened up the piano as he spoke and turned to the musician.,Cautiously he crept nearer the door, stopping at each step to listen, to look again at the worker above. He was at the very corner of the house when voices sounded from within. He started, his breath coming quicker. He caught no words, but knew by the “ginger” in the tones that the speakers were angry. Shuffling steps came up the stairway and turned toward the rear.,“You must do it,” he spelled. His stiffened fingers must have carried authority, for she nodded; and he saw her get a chair and stand with it, ready to do his bidding.,“Oh, Billy, Billy! My beautiful opera is ruined!” Edith wailed, as she heard the jeers of the small boys in the audience.,When the party reached the house and St. Elmo had been received with every manifestation of joy, Mr. Wopp in one burst of eloquence explained how his boy Moses had found him. Moses, the hero of the hour, stood abashed before the encomiums of Mrs. Mifsud. He twirled his hat at a fearful rate on his doubled fist, standing awkwardly on one foot the while.,The operetta opened with a weird winter scene, when the Sower (Harold) sowed his grain, and the gnomes and elves set upon him; and evoked Storm King (Jimmy), Wind (Bess), and Frost (Jackson). He was the comedy of the little drama; and dressed all in black, covered with silver spangles and diamond dust, he made a joke that the wine-growers appreciated, for it is the black frosts of April they fear.,Then scartter seeds of kindness,,“Are your going to church?” she asked, disappointment drawing her lips to a tremulous curve..