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Up, up Billy climbed. On the bare spaces, or balanced on the point of some slender rock, he stopped frequently to look down on the beautiful valley below; on little farms laid out checker-board fashion, dark green squares for orchards, lighter green for vineyards, with tree-lined lanes running between. Overhead fleecy clouds chased one another like freshly washed, woolly sheep across the blue pasture of the heavens. In the north the great blue mountain loomed, all its opalescent tints and shadows hidden till the setting of the sun should light them forth. Meantime Jerusalem Crickets, escaped from Billy’s arm and eye, was sneaking about for prey; and a clinking sound from the pantry warned them that she had found it. She was happy and the time passed unnoticed till she had finished, and put the food back in the pail, when a queer, dizzy feeling came upon her and she sank down on one of the rugs..
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“Yes indeed,” laughed Mrs. Wopp, who was just then entering the room with a platter of bacon and eggs, “Betty’s our mornin’-glory girl shore nuff, she’s first up in the mornin’, she’s a glory little urchin an’ she’s our little girl to stay.” Impressed with the importance of her task of instilling wisdom into the minds of her young listeners, Mrs. Wopp ignored this remark and continued the narrative into which she had already launched. “Of course I am,” he replied promptly, with a squeeze of her hand that made her wince. “At first I was scared; I thought you must be a fairy.” “He must have gone to Clarence in the barn,” concluded Maria, setting off at a run..
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