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“She’d like fust-rate to come, but Glory be! She’d want ter fetch her pet turkey and Jethro.” When the program was over Moses noticed enviously that Betty was so close to the orchestra that her ear was almost in the trombone. “But you haven’t told us what hurries you so,” Jean called, while Billy was already sprinting away..
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The captivating music of Grieg’s “Butterfly” floated through the room and Moses watched the white supple fingers of the player with breathless eagerness. “You don’t catch Billy asleep,” said George, siding with the victorious. Off they bounded, side by side, through the fragrant spring evening. The red of the western sky touched to brighter rosiness their glowing cheeks, tinted Jean’s wind-blown hair with gold. As they neared the town she shot ahead in a last ambitious spurt, wheeled and faced him as he came up. At first he could not eat with relish, his mind was so distracted with admiration of the magnificent room, and impatient to get his worrying secret off his heart and conscience. But his wise host ordered so artfully, and filled the intervals of waiting with such delightful stories and anecdotes, explanations of the decorations, funny facts or conjectures concerning the hotel and guests, that before he knew it, Billy had, he told his mother afterward, referring to his stomach, “loaded her up to the guards, ’nough to make you ’shamed of me, mother.”.
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