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“Poor little Billy! You’ve had a hard night of it.” “I b’lieve I’ll go an’ git the warterin’ can,” announced Betty. “These pansies is orful dry, an’ even ef the sun is shinin’ on them, some warter round the roots wont hurt. You stay here, St. Elmo, an’ I’ll be back in a minute.” “Why, Billy, what has happened to make you think so?”.

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“I suppose you have a large farm, Mr. Wopp,” said Nell Gordon. “I’m sorry to make you late with your mowing, Billy, but I must have you go out to Mrs. Prettyman’s for some cream she promised me.” Mr. Wells the clergyman was of English birth, very conservative and inclined to be shy. He was unusually tall with broad shoulders. Mrs. Wopp once said of him, “When Mr. Wells gits his gownd on, he’s the hull lan’scape.” The deeply pious lady seldom criticized things ecclesiastical; but she had “feelin’s that ef Ebenezer Wopp bed of took to larnin’ like his Mar wished, he’d of looked amazin’ well in that pulpit, better nor Mr. Wells.” St. Elmo’s face brightened with intelligence. He broke into the story to give a graphic account of how a little yellow chicken of his sister’s had got “dwownded” in the pig-trough..