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“I like ‘Ladybird,’ but not ‘bully,’” the little girl returned shyly.,From the kitchen came an unmistakeable odor of cheese. Ebenezer Wopp was having a slight snack before retiring. With the back of his nervous hand he was wiping from the corners of his mouth the telltale crumbs.,“My conscience! You can’t eat all—” May Nell stopped, conscious of an unkindness. But the boy only laughed; he was used to comments on his appetite.,Betty picked him a small bouquet. She knew that in the child’s hot grasp the flowers would soon droop and she loved them so dearly that she grieved to see them wither and die. St. Elmo, however, was not satisfied.,An enlarged crayon portrait in a wide gilt frame of Moses as a baby in a state of round cherubic innocent nudity, had been added recently to the mural decorations and was especially well covered with cloths.,S Billy Bennett wheeled around the corner he saw his mother in the doorway. Also he saw Jean Hammond across the street speaking with Bess Carter,—the Queen of Sheba, the children called her, she was so large and dark and handsome, and had such a royal way, like a sure ’nough queen, one said. Though why children who had never been out of Vine County should know so much about queens no one thought to ask.,That preliminary march was not without adventure. The “howdah” on the White Elephant where May Nell rode as the Fair Princess of Bombay, became loose and threatened to spill its small bit of royalty. And when Harold cinched the thing tighter the old cow bellowed so the smaller children broke and ran. However, they were soon back, and the procession halted at Mrs. Lancaster’s front gate in fair order. But when she saw the imposing string of wagons, children, and animals, known and unknown, she was afraid to trust her precious Buzz to them.,The divining woman looked into May Nell’s beautiful eyes, too deep and thoughtful for her slender body; drew her close and kissed her. “Yes, dear, just the nicest sort of work for a little girl. You may hull these strawberries; and if you eat some for toll I shan’t be looking.”,“Please, Mister, my nose was bleedin’ an’ I lorst my way lookin’ fer warter, an’ here I am on Jording’s stormy banks.”,The boy scudded lightly across the narrow open space to the shelter of a manzanita tree, and looked back again; but no one appeared. Did he still hear the softly quarrelling voices? He fancied so. The sudden dip of the sun behind a hill darkened the scene threateningly, and brought a return of “the creeps.”,“But it’s a secret,” she whispered in smothered distress. “Please to go!”,“Feel that muscle,” he said a moment later; bending his arm, and pressing her fingers to it. “That’s got to grow by a broom or hoe, something besides football!”.