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“Oh no Betty,” Moses tones were of an elder-brotherly authority, “yer li’l han’s aint meant fer sich servitood. I’d not stan’ by an’ see you do that.” With all his teasing at times, Moses adored his little foster-sister. He idealized her, and as Mrs. Wopp had often remarked, whenever Betty left his presence he saw her ascend into heaven in a “Whirlwin’ of fire, an’ go-cart of flame.” Mrs. Wopp drew the green curtains together and turned to the smallest girl in the class. “Oh go on Betty, a daddy-long-legs’d die of starvin’ on what you eat.”.
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Having disposed of the song, dear to her mother’s heart, in spite of the protestations of Moses, Betty went to the kitchen and in a few moments returned with a steaming pot of tea. “Who is Mr. Zalhamber?” asked Howard, as though he had forgotten his existence. “But you work hard, and he should do his part. You are spending your youth for us, and I’m glad he begins to see it.” They spoke softly, yet Billy knew partly what they said; and it made him still more thoughtful. “Suppose you go down to the creek,” she replied with a peculiar smile. “May Nell and the twins went there some time ago. Harold, too.”.
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