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As Clarence depicted the terror of the father, lest his arrow miss the mark and kill his son, Moses rose from his chair in breathless suspense. However, the arrow cleft the apple and left the boy unscathed, and the relieved Moses, sinking back in his chair, recovered himself sufficiently to murmur “What an orful chanct fer anyone ter take!”,Late that night when Billy’s mother followed him to the Fo’castle, he asked, “Are you pleased with it, little mother?”,“Never mind Mosey, Next Monday I’m goin’ to ask Mar to let me stay home and turn the nasty mouldy machine.”,“But, Mose, you shorely didn’t fergit a sorft answer turneth away wrarth?”,“I like ‘Ladybird,’ but not ‘bully,’” the little girl returned shyly.,“But where does our fun come in? Girls don’t build railroads,” Bess complained.,Another sound in a somewhat higher key was heard. Moses had simply modulated in his domestic symphony of labor from a major task to a minor one. As a change and refreshing recreation, Moses was allowed to turn the small wheat-mill. Ninety soul-stirring turns it required to empty the hopper once, and he must turn out enough flour for a batch of bread. His youthful soul was in revolt at such servitude. He had no sympathy to squander on the children of Israel in bondage vile. Making bricks for Pharoah was infantile amusement compared to his labor.,“What song would you like, Betty?”,The gentle words, the tender touch, the comfort and hope in her words, unlocked his lips and he told what he had thought to keep forever untold.,“Well?” she questioned.,“Smile, Moses, dern yer empty corn-cob face! Smile!” shouted one.,“Aint that wonderful Miss Gordon? An’ Betty never had a lesson in her life. She jist naterly takes to music,” said Mrs. Wopp complacently..