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“Yes, thank you. But most my heart is hungry. Will you help me to find my mama?”,“Sing something, Mar.” Betty’s plaintive voice broke the silence.,“But I don’t like them to do that, Billy. They ought to stay dead till the play is done. When I see them smiling I feel as if—just as I would if you made fun of me when I cried for my mama,—it takes all the true out of the play.”,“But some people like their work, don’t they?” May Nell persisted. She was exploring strange country.,Another sound in a somewhat higher key was heard. Moses had simply modulated in his domestic symphony of labor from a major task to a minor one. As a change and refreshing recreation, Moses was allowed to turn the small wheat-mill. Ninety soul-stirring turns it required to empty the hopper once, and he must turn out enough flour for a batch of bread. His youthful soul was in revolt at such servitude. He had no sympathy to squander on the children of Israel in bondage vile. Making bricks for Pharoah was infantile amusement compared to his labor.,“Oh, please, mister, sir, don’t hurt Bouncer. I’d rather you’d hit me. He’s the best dog ever lived, and I won’t let you hurt him.” Her courage grew as she spoke, and he stopped his search and glanced her way. She looked up, bravely pleading for the dog she hugged harder.,[89]“Mother, do come and look at the procession,” Edith called cautiously from the trellises, where she was slyly watching.,An enlarged crayon portrait in a wide gilt frame of Moses as a baby in a state of round cherubic innocent nudity, had been added recently to the mural decorations and was especially well covered with cloths.,“Ay, ay, sir,” came this time from two boys who had charge of some logs lashed together and crossed and recrossed by a hash-like lot of refuse lumber, and moored with a dog chain.,Zalhambra was a vaudeville artist. His was the star act on each bill. He was undeniably a genius; it needed but a few bars of fortissimo plus crescendo to realize that he was a virtuoso of the first rank. When he played a Rag the audience shouted with delight; but when he sprinkled torrential cadenzas through the dizzying syncopation, like some mighty giant tossing meteors into a handful of fire-crackers, something like an electric shock stirred his hearers.,“Come, Jethro, Betty’ll carry her li’l white puppykins, pore li’l footsy’s so sore.”,A period of silence followed excepting for the slight sounds made by the workers, the drowsy humming of flies, the murmur of an occasional bee and the faint rustlings of the tall stalks of corn..