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“She may come with me, mother,” Edith said, pausing in the lesson with finger uplifted on the beat; “Billy mustn’t go into that bleak tank house.” Moses Wopp, sitting with Clarence Crump on a bench near the door had hitherto been enjoying himself hugely. Now fearing injury to his beloved dog he rushed boldly to the rescue. Clarence followed more slowly. It was but the work of a few moments to separate the combatants and remove them from the church. Jethro borne away to a safe distance in the arms of Moses still uttered occasional rumbling growls, each individual hair on his spine standing erect. Clarence kept a firm hold on Snappy’s collar. The pictures that followed were of fairies and sprites irresistible to childish minds..

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Everything was going smoothly when suddenly a catastrophe stopped short the circus, and left Moses greatly distressed. He inwardly complained that never yet was he “havin’ a good time but some orful thing happened to put a cloud over the sun.” The hens and chickens that had been pressed into the ranks of the circus performers were crowding round a swill-bucket which Moses had left tilted at a precarious angle on an upturned soap-box. In its zig-zag gyrations round the yard, the ostrich, to avoid the ubiquitous fowl, ran against the bucket and the odoriferous contents were splashed over the yellow-draped circus lady. The contents of the swill-pail trickled down Betty’s finery and dropped sadly from the pink headgear of the ostrich. “Mother,” he resumed, “I know I must freeze to some sort of business, and that mighty soon, too. But a preacher—why, he can’t be like anybody. He never has any fun.” “At my brother’s Mrs. Wopp. He had just acquired it, so of course little proficiency was yet attained.” “Shame on you Moses, rampagin’ an’ bellerin’ there like a gang of coyotes,” remonstrated his mother..