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“Poor little chaps! They’ve been talking circus for a month.”,BILLY did not lift his face from the pillow; he was striving to steady throat and voice.,“Billy, you’re a wise guy. This beats Maskey’s,” Harold declared.,It had stopped raining, but was still cloudy. This was the hour when Billy usually wheeled long miles by himself, dreaming dreams no one but a boy knows how to dream. Nothing short of a downpour ever hindered him; thus mother and sister knew it was genuine self-sacrifice that kept him beside the little girl through the long afternoon.,“You have, you have, dear baby! I’ll be your mother, and you can call me ‘mamma’ as Billy does.”,Howard sat back in his chair and thought of the possibilities of seeing Nell. He reflected that they were as good as engaged. Mrs. Wopp had given her diagnosis of the case enigmatically, perhaps, but with a degree of accuracy denoting keen observation on the evening of his last visit at the Wopp household. For fully a fraction of a minute Nell had let him hold her hand, and then her face all dimpling had turned to say good-night. He was rehearsing what he should say next time she dimpled so irresistibly and he breathed anathemas on his asinine conduct in being so shy and tardy. He was brought to the immediate present by Moses who was regarding an ice-cream soda with suspicion.,“Billy, my little, little boy!” She lifted the tousled head and pressed her cheek close against his.,“Sure!” Billy assented, heartily. “I take it back about old Sir Thomas; I guess they’re equal partners, after all.”,The elders, having settled at their task, Maria Mifsud and Betty, who were considered too young and irresponsible to assist with such important work, made their way to the creek, that perennial source of amusement for the youthful. They were accompanied by Maria’s small brother, St. Elmo. Here, during the long summer afternoon they gaily disported themselves, even the rather dignified Maria entering with zest into childish fun.,He found Evelyn on her knees before a hot fire, bravely trying to hold level one of the several pots that were sizzling there. Her drooping hair smothered her small hot face, and perspiration stood like dew on her anxious little upper lip.,A kindly man held her by the hand, yet he was evidently a stranger to her.,“I guess Nancy’s got tired wartchin’ fer the gopher to come out,” remarked Betty, presently. “She’s left her job an’ gone away. P’raps she thinks she can git a mouse in the barn easier.”.