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Wait till the clouds roll by,,“I am given to understand by the best fashion-plates, Mrs. Wopp, that the garment you term an ‘underwaist’ is now designated a casserole.”,“Golly! They’re working all night. I—ought to—help—to-morrow. I—” He slept again with his good resolution half made.,May Nell looked at him a minute before speaking. “You like doing things, but you don’t like work. Isn’t work doing things?”,Peter Stolway carried a large paper bag, and as the carrots fell with resounding thuds into the bin, they seemed like inebriated question marks, so ungainly and irregular were their shapes. One giddy carrot teetered on the edge as though about to entertain the onlookers by an acrobatic performance.,So imminent had catastrophe been, that no one thought of the poor small steamer burning unchecked to the water’s edge while the procession climbed the hill; no one knew till days afterward that busy Buzz had entered the open shop and mixed Billy’s cans so that it was gasoline instead of kerosene that he fed that fated craft. But gratitude for Jimmy’s bravery and May Nell’s safety supplanted even in the youngest heart all regret for the boat.,Billy looked at her thoughtfully, wondering why her fearless criticism did not displease him; lifted his battered hat and mussed again his tousled hair. “All right, Fair Ellen, I’ll try to obey the—”,“Put a crown of pickled olerves on me,” demanded Moses, “me ’n Jethro beat.” He stood before his sister mopping his face. The express waggon with a wheel off was overturned and a frightened. “Cheep, cheep, cheep” came from beneath it.,“Sure.” Billy looked up from all fours and grinned. “I haven’t got two able-bodied sisters like Vilette an’ Echo to work for me; and you wouldn’t have me see my mother do it, would you?”,The hours passed in an uproar of fun. The table was dismantled, toys, tools, and dishes put away, and the feast had sped into the past.,She turned back and rode up by his side. “Why shouldn’t a girl ride as fast as a boy?” She had a bright, frank face, and her brown eyes were as honest as they were beautiful.,He swung his book-strap in greeting to his mother while rolling more slowly up the rose-bordered path to the veranda. He thought his mother’s face looked tired; but the smile there welcomed him warmly, and he forgot the tired look with her first words..