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Mannel Rodd’s round face was very solemn as in two chubby fists he held out a small box containing a number of short knobby specimens. “Mith Wopp, had Jonah any little girlth or boyth at home?” May Nell ran and hugged Mrs. Bennett, and Edith and Billy in turn, nestling afterward in her father’s arms..

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The dutiful husband drew from his pocket a long slip of paper and a small stubby pencil. Having a poor memory, he had formed the habit of making a note of everything his wife suggested, so that he could fulfill her wishes in future. The notes were plentiful, but they failed in some unaccountable way to prod his memory. His fork having safely landed its cargo, Mr. Wopp laid it carefully down and remarking, “I must make a note of that,” he began to inscribe Nell’s diplomatic request. As he leaned over the paper, his head shone like a round china lamp-shade, its shining expanse relieved here and there, by long wisps of grey hair. THE silence was broken a little later by merry voices on the stairway. For several nights the girls had been gathering in May Nell’s room. Billy knew “things were doing” there by the sounds; the tap, tap of the tack hammer, added to much chatter and rustling. Now May Nell caught him by the hand and pulled him across the hall. A strange pungent fragrance like burning spice, yet not familiar, met them at the door. And inside, the dark hangings full of lurking shadows gave the room a foreign air. “My conscience! How lovely and stylish you look!” The child, accustomed to elegant dress, praised with discriminating eyes..