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“Wisht I hed a chance to holler into one of them brass dinner-horns, too,” he grumbled.,“Yes, right now.” He stepped nearer, and Bouncer growled and bristled.,Inside the church matters were beginning to resume a normal condition. But Mr. Wells still badly shaken and feeling unable to proceed announced, “My friends we will conclude our service with a hymn. Will some one suggest a suitable one.”,Mrs. Mifsud, however, had seemingly heard not a word of the story. In her distress she forgot that Mrs. Wopp was decidedly plebeian in her conversation and otherwise hopelessly unfashionable; all these discrepancies vanished from her mind, and leaning over on the ample bosom, she wept copiously. Mrs. Wopp patted her in a motherly way. “One touch o’ nater makes the hull world a-kin,” she whispered, “Hearten up, Mis’ Mifsud, Moses ’ll find yer little lamb. That boy seems slow, but all’s not gold that’s a-glitterin’. He’s shorely got a nose fer findin’ things. Our black carf got lost on the prairie one day an’ he found it arter everybody else hed giv’ up huntin’.”,“Can’t I see the faywies some time, Betty?” asked St. Elmo.,They were a happy lot. Each held some high-sounding position, the name coined in Billy’s busy brain. His box of abused tools came forth; the much mended wheelbarrow, picks, shovels wobbly from use as well as abuse, improvised things that only an imagination as large as Billy’s could have named tools,—something for each one there.,Edith finished her music lesson, dismissed her pupil, and made the little girl tidy if comical, in one of her own frocks. And when the four sat to eat, Billy’s voice rang above the rest in the little song they sang in lieu of grace.,“Billy, my little, little boy!” She lifted the tousled head and pressed her cheek close against his.,“Here! Sit down on the bank.” Billy himself was trembling so he felt it safer to see Jimmy sitting. “I’ll get—Twinnies, run, run to the tank and wet your handkerchief. Quick!”,“Never mind Mosey, Next Monday I’m goin’ to ask Mar to let me stay home and turn the nasty mouldy machine.”,“She’s a reglar show-lady,” defended Moses. This was hardly a strategic move from Moses, as he had just asserted they had been doing nothing.,Vainly he explored the corridors seeking a tap for water to bathe his bleeding nose. The more doors Moses went through the more doors seemed to beckon him on through their portals. He reflected that if he had only had the good fortune to bring the key of the pantry door at home, that large piece of cold steel applied to the back of his neck would speedily have stopped the sanguinary flood..