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“For three days an’ three nights there was no sleep fer his eyes nor slumber fer his eyelets.”,“Well, well, you don’t say!”,There was a stir in the room. His mother stood—May Nell, too—and the cat stretched lazily on the couch. Sister Edith followed the guests to the porch, as did his mother and the little girl—the room was empty! He opened the kitchen door, tried to hasten noiselessly, yet thought he clattered like a threshing machine. Into the living-room he crept, and lumbered softly up the stairs that seemed a mile long.,“Have you been to the show this week, Miss Gordon?” He turned from the fire and stood with his back to the cheerful blaze.,Billy was skeptical, yet soon convinced, as the little girl slowly and carefully read the problems, followed his directions, and obtained correct results. A few problems were too complicated; these the boy had her mark for attack with recovered sight.,Billy felt his head lift a little higher at his mother’s words; felt a new standard of honor and independence leap into being. The house was too small for him. He ran out into the summer evening, down the hill to the big rock that overhangs Runa Creek. The stars were beginning to shine, and he could hear the tinkle of the water below. Bouncer rubbed against him, and Billy hugged him to the peril of the old dog’s breath.,Several others were summoned and returned with remarkable reports. At last two high-pitched little voices called in concert down the[160] stair: “The Royal Seeress will rend the veil of futurity for William Bennett.”,The next day was spent in sight seeing but visions of neglected poultry and cows haunted the anxious housewife, and notwithstanding the expostulations of Moses they started home that evening.,Billy was off, fear lending fleetness to feet that a moment before had been leaden. He overtook his mother and Jean in the path to the Lodge. “Have you come for her?” he panted. “Do you think she’s alone still?”,St. Elmo cast about in his mind for some plausible explanation of his recent panic. It would never do to inform the world that he had been afraid of a mere turkey.,“An’ was the pore little feller lookin’ fer Joner?” said Mrs. Wopp. She spoke pityingly, yet she could not avoid some slight feeling of satisfaction over this evident tribute to her powers of biblical narrative.,“You look like some kind-faced happygo-lucky cow, chewin’ her cud,” teased Mrs. Wopp, standing at the parlor door and noting the reminiscent moving of her son’s jaws..