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“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.,“That boy’ll sartinly spill the tea,” prophecied Mrs. Wopp, with laughing pessimism.,Mrs. Wopp surmised from the dejected appearance of the young rancher, coupled with the smiles over the footlights which she had observed with rising wrath, that trouble was brewing, and she whispered audibly to herself, “A musician’s orl right on a pianner stool, but when it comes to gittin’ up in the mornin’ an’ choppin’ wood to bile the kettle give me a farmer.” Her cogitations became louder. “I s’pose he thinks cos he has a percession of carpital letters arter his name he can git anyone fer the arskin’. When he smiled so at our Miss Gordon I could of slain him with the jawrbone of an arss.” In her championship of Howard’s interests, Mrs. Wopp became an ardent villifier of the pianist and she administered an oral castigation with feminine vigor.,This suggestion called for a general discussion. One or two very conservative ladies were not sure that a young man who so frequently played a prominent part at dances should also figure in church affairs. It might bring a curse on them. However, as there was no immediate need for decision, the subject was abandoned.,Ebenezer Wopp was the last silent word in patient masculinity, but his face, becoming darker with his work, would lead an onlooker to believe that sinister thoughts were struggling to find expression.,The man faced her abruptly. “The devil he knows!”,“I mix up words that way sometimes, too,” the child excused.,CHAPTER VI.—AN EVENING IN THE WOPP PARLOR.,CHAPTER II THE SATURDAY GANG,“Heavens to Betsey! We’ll do it!”,Vigorously cleaning up the still bewildered victim, Mrs. Wopp hurled fresh orders.,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..