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“Yes, now. Once she must have been about the same size, you know.” She stood behind the child caressing her cheek.,

“What’s the Golden Text, Norer?”,

“Well, Tom jumps up from the outside, hangs on the sill with one forefoot, and pulls out the edge of the screen with the other till he gets his nose in, when he can pry out the screen and slip through easily.”,

Norah Bliggins carried in a little basket several carrots of various sizes and complexions, all carefully scrubbed as became respectable members of the vegetable family, and shining as sweet and clean as the face of the child. These must have put to shame their forked brother, for that perturbed carrot rolled heavily to a corner and hid his grimy visage.

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It was a fine summer evening. The whole Wopp family was getting ready to go to a dance, to be held at a ranch some ten miles off. An array of clean clothing was laid out on the different beds and an odor of musk-scented soap pervaded the air.,

Lila Williams, with her dark curls falling over a pale blue gingham dress, stood watching the proceedings with impatience. She was yearning to burst into speech. As soon as St. Elmo’s cries were reduced to intermittent gum-droppy sobs she turned to Betty, and looking up trustfully into her brown eyes, she launched forth.,

In the house, meanwhile, affairs were proceeding quite as happily as those out of doors. The hostess fluctuated between the parlor and kitchen. She was preparing a repast not only for the workers present, but also for the men-folk who would presently arrive to take them to their respective homes. Excused from quilting, she nevertheless managed to spend considerable time with her guests. Mrs. Mifsud was a lady who aspired to literary attainments. She had read “Beulah,” “Vashti,” “Lucile,” “St. Elmo” and many other books of like calibre. She felt that her talents were practically wasted, living in what she termed a desert, yet she strove, when occasion offered, by elegance of deportment and conversation to enhance her gifts. She often spoke tenderly of the late Mr. Mifsud who, in spite of the fact that his face had been adorned with bristling side-whiskers of an undeniable red, had shown in other ways some signs of intelligence and feeling. He had been carried off by the shingles. According to Mrs. Mifsud’s account, her deeply-lamented spouse had considered the tall attenuated form of his wife “willowy,” her long thin black hair “a crown of glory,” her worn narrow countenance with its sharp nose and coal-black eyes, “seraphic.”,

“Cows have a long tale. They wave it and it keeps there back cool, sometimes they wave it to keep off flies and other insecks. Cows cannot run as fast as a hoarse but if she is chasing you she seems to be running very fast. If she chases you pick up a tin can or pale and hit on it with a stone. The cow will then stampeed. Cows have four feet called hoofs. They are useful for walking this is all I know about cows.”