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“No, no! Don’t, mother! I’ll run away! I’ll—” He groaned and left his sentence unfinished.,Betty and Maria, whose reviving interest in the quilt had drawn them from their play to the somewhat crowded parlor, now reported several vehicles to be in sight. They hastened with this information to Mrs. Mifsud in the kitchen, that important domain whence a savory odor had been issuing for some time.,In his distress his wandering eye discovered a bunch of vine ties, short pieces of soft hemp rope for fastening vines to their supporting stakes. They were hanging against the rear of the coop, and a gust of wind had blown them into view. Like a flash he sprang and caught them; tied several together in quick, strong knots, and lashed himself to the little tree. Then he took up the board again, poised it at a perpendicular, calculated the angle, and slowly dropped it. Would the end reach the sill? No, it was too short!,Late that night when Billy’s mother followed him to the Fo’castle, he asked, “Are you pleased with it, little mother?”,With a boy’s cunning and swiftness Billy made a running creep through the underbrush up the steep mountain side. From a peephole higher up he stopped, breathless, and watched them beat the chaparral round about where he had stood; saw them go down into the road, look each way, turn and scan the mountain; and at last slink off, one to the house, the other to the vineyard.,“Yes, we shall marry her ourselves,” Evelyn echoed; while both girls made childish efforts to rehabilitate the depressed cousins.,“An’ well I know who’s makin’ him stew an’ chomp. You needn’t try to deceive yer, Mar,” chided the knowing matron.,“I c’d eat a rhindoceros,” he confided to Clarence.,“Ah Miss Gordon, I see you love the music too,” he murmured in her ear.,“That’s no giant. She isn’t bigger’n a kid. Will she let you come to play? The Gang’s coming to-morrow.”,Nell looked toward the morning-glory garden and there she saw Betty kneeling in the moonlight. Jethro was sitting up on his hind legs beside the little figure, holding his paws before him. The moonlight fell on his penitential white body, on the stiff braids of the sorrowful and contrite Betty, and lighted up the bright yellow nasturtiums that filled the air with their pungent odor. The morning-glory leaves gleamed in the pure white light.,How the missionary box would jingle! How the heathen would sing for joy! While on the Wopp table carrot pudding could become a diurnal felicity!.