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She smiled faintly. “Then my feelings must be bloodthirsty, Billy. How dreadful!”,The Wopps, father and son, attacked the load of hay with such vigor that it was quickly disposed of. Just as the last forkful was being pitched over the corral fence, the boy looking up saw a vehicle approaching.,“What a funny word! What do you mean?”,“All right. I’m off!”,“Mary Ellen Smith; but my mama calls me May Nell; and she says—she says ‘kid’ is vulgar.” The last words were very shy.,The child was gifted in this most elemental of the arts, and her histrionic ability carried along the interest of her listeners even when the printed matter on the back of the paper interfered with the clearness of the picture. Her imagination bolstered up the defects of dry facts.,She glanced down the road, and swiftly around. Not a soul in sight. Obedience was inevitable.,“An orful good-natured tied-in-at-the-waist critter, aint it?” commented Moses.,“You young scamp, you found water, didn’t you, more than you needed? For the love of St. Patrick, if it isn’t the spalpeen that split his sides laughing at me falling on the ice yesterday!”,“Wot’s the use of livin’ if Betty grows them there wings they talk of?” he demanded of the fowl as they scurried from his path.,A hand shot up at this point in the lesson and a thin voice piped, “Please, Mis’ Wopp, I was to the Fair last year.”,Mrs. Wopp’s face assumed a forgiving air as she accepted this defence. Then began that portion of the story that leads up to the tragic culmination..