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The loft in the barn had been swept and garnished by Mr. Wopp for Betty’s moving picture show, and thither, after the preliminary how-d’you-do’s were over, she led her eager audience. Her head was held at the exact angle for ascending the ladder to perform the imposing duties of moving picture operator, and her foot was on the first rung when she suddenly thought of the collection box for the carrots the children were carrying.,“No, no! Don’t, mother! I’ll run away! I’ll—” He groaned and left his sentence unfinished.,CHAPTER IV THE TWO-LIGHT TIME,Choosing a piece of bright yellow chalk she began to inscribe the golden text on the blackboard. She pressed too hard and the chalk cracked and fell to the floor. Pete Stolway vaulted out of his chair to capture the yellow pencil, but he had the misfortune to step on both the pieces of crayon, crushing them to sand, a heap of yellow grit.,“Come, Betty Girl,” said Moses, “Mar wants you to go to bed.”,“Why, ma, the children are quite respectable; I know all their mothers.” Buzz’s mamma looked a little mischievous.,But on the whole Billy was proud. “The kids showed their pluck and stuck to their jobs,” he told his mother afterward. The White Elephant bellowed impressively in front of the postoffice; and Jimmy’s ponies never reared so gracefully as in front of the bank.,“Oh, the kids’—boys’ dogs are mostly old or else too fat to run, like Bouncer. I guess the rabbit can get away,—too soon, perhaps. We’ll have you for Fair Ellen.”,St. Elmo looked at the specimens in his hand. “These pansies is most deaded. I fink I’ll fwow them away,” he declared.,All was now ready for firing. “She” was to be run by oil. They took her out through the double doors, both swung wide for the first time in many weeks. It was all the boys could do to carry the heavy thing, though they went quite steadily across the vegetable garden, not without some damage to spring lettuce and summer corn, however; but on the steep, uneven slope below, the Fair Ellen came almost to grief.,“I’ve not been to seek a wife,,“But I don’t like them to do that, Billy. They ought to stay dead till the play is done. When I see them smiling I feel as if—just as I would if you made fun of me when I cried for my mama,—it takes all the true out of the play.”.