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To stay the cloud that began to gather over Moses’ brow, Howard suggested going to see a vaudeville show.,“Billy, you’re a wise guy. This beats Maskey’s,” Harold declared.,In a few days the sight of his wife wrapped in a shawl the color of an unripe cucumber had a rejuvenating influence upon Ebenezer Wopp. He did not say much, being a man of few words, but his sentiments were inscribed in cramped illegible writing on a slip of paper to be handed down to posterity.,Billy hesitated a minute. The dim room, the wicked-looking red lights, Bess so stern and mysterious,—this might frighten the little girl. He ought to wait.,With a supreme effort he straightened his arms just as the board reached the level of the sill, pushed it forward with all his might; and—it caught! Caught by an inch or less!,“I believe you are becoming a confirmed westerner,” said Howard as they slowed down to a walk. “If you once drink slough water you know you will never like any other.”,“It’s time Billy was at home,” he heard his mother say as he opened her room door; and he stumbled on more hurriedly, across the bridge—at last, the Fo’castle!,Jean was the Goddess of Liberty; Shifty and another larger boy the steeds that pulled her car. But boys and box wagon were so smothered in bunting that only the Goddess was conspicuous, standing, well-balanced, stately, and fair.,“You’re George Rideout Smith’s kid, ain’t you?”,May Nell looked at him a minute before speaking. “You like doing things, but you don’t like work. Isn’t work doing things?”,There they all were; those who had come first to the house, and many others: Jean, Bess Carter, Charley Strong, Max Krieber, Jackson Carter, the little colored boy, standing aloof, and others, large and small. All in a line they stood, and shouted up at him:,CHAPTER XII.—THE AUTOGRAPH QUILT..