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With a start and plunge the surprised horses, now thoroughly indignant, set off at a gallop.,Covered with confusion at his outburst, Moses sank into his chair and remained silent till Mr. Crump, by adroit conversation, caused him to once again lose his self-consciousness. He called Moses’ attention to a few musical instruments in the corner of the room and led him over to view them more closely.,“Maria, where is St. Elmo?” asked Mrs. Mifsud, as with flushed face she basted some fowls in the oven.,A small stove had been set up in the improvised kitchen, and a big boiler filled with water. This was now boiling furiously and the ladies proceeded to make the coffee. Cakes and pies were cut, cups and saucers were piled in one huge basket and sandwiches in another.,Betty playfully thrust a small forefinger into one of the fresh biscuits on the table and bore it, impaled on the rosy weapon, triumphantly to her plate. This was for the amusement of Moses, but instead of laughing as he was expected to do, he eyed his little sister with assumed indifference.,“A cat tablecloth!” the little girl laughed.,“Why do you think he would have whipped you?”,Some of the voices were cracked and others badly out of tune. Moses Wopp’s voice, loudest of all, sounded like a foghorn and the windows fairly rattled in their frames. Nell motioned him to her desk. She thought by occupying his attention elsewhere the music lesson might proceed with more melody and less noise. Moses had developed his stentorian tones at home, by the lusty singing of Hallelujah hymns under the strict supervision of his mother.,[32]“There are other things besides gems, little girl.” Mrs. Bennett smiled and began to clear the table.,From the lower slopes of the Cedar Hills issued many wide wooded ravines. Of these none were prettier than Spring Coulee which even in winter retained its attractiveness, having a goodly sprinkling of evergreen trees among the poplars and cottonwoods lining its sides. A grassy level formed the bottom of the coulee. Through the centre of this a little crystal-clear stream, rising in the hills behind and swelled by an occasional spring which gushed from the sides of the ravine, danced over its pebbly bed to join Berry Creek a mile away.,Vigorously all joined in the closing hymn and Mrs. Wopp’s high soprano could be heard above all the other voices. A sense of duty well performed added even greater power to the vocal billowing.,“Say, little kid, what’s your name?” he asked, merrily, as he routed a great white cat from his own chair and placed it before the fire for the child..