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The frenzied cries of the child were distinctly audible in the kitchen where sat Mrs. Mifsud and Mrs. Wopp, the latter busily engaged in mending a pile of socks. Both ladies sprang to their feet and hurried through the open door towards the garden, Mrs. Wopp still wearing a half-darned sock on her left hand and scattering others as she ran. They were followed by Betty, who had been filling her watering-can from the rain-barrel and had also heard the cries of the frightened child.,The unstinted praise of the children in the operetta, the aftermath of buzz about the “show” at school,—this excitement lasted for a day or so; but on this lowering Sunday tired nature put in a claim for her own; and relaxed nerves were irritably near the surface.,Billy made no reply. He wondered if he ought to stay at home.,“But where does our fun come in? Girls don’t build railroads,” Bess complained.,“How in the name of orl the aporstles did that hen git in there?” questioned Mrs. Wopp.,“I haf learn for gifing avay already, but I feel more as rich dan if they haf gif to me. How ist dat?” Max asked himself, not knowing, this little German lad so lately come to America, that he had discovered one of the profoundest secrets of the universe.,With the gracious air of a duchess, Maria Mifsud dropped into the oat-bin about a peck of the vegetables. They were coiffured and manicured correctly and doubtless considered themselves the elite of the carota species.,He roused himself sharply; found his handkerchief and rubbed his eyes a little clearer; bent swiftly over Jimmy, who stirred when touched, and, to Billy’s intense relief, spoke.,All but May Nell; when Edith and Mrs. Bennett rubbed and warmed her she declared she didn’t need it, and was so absorbed in lamenting the loss of the Fair Ellen, she could think of nothing else.,The shower was over in a few moments and all prepared to leave the barn for the house.,Many times she had seen Mrs. Bennett transplant the garden flowers, had helped; now she put all her lore to use. Patiently she toiled with brittle sticks and pointed stones till the vine was replanted against the rude walls; emptied the dinner pail and trudged back and forth to the river several times for water, to wet the earth above the roots; and patted it down with muddy little hands.,CHAPTER II THE SATURDAY GANG.