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Jimmy had the trick ponies and the trained dogs. Teaching them was the chief joy of his life. What if there were only two ponies, and their spots were painted on? And what if the children had seen all the tricks over and over again? They were good as new each time. Besides, the ponies’ one brand-new trick, when at the crack of a whip they stood on their hind feet in unison, was so effective that it frightened May Nell. She saw it first in the barn; and when their shod hoofs came down she thought they would crash right through the floor.,

“Betty, play us a toon,” requested Mr. Wopp who was very fond of music.,

He was out early wheeling from house to house, where various parts of the “show” were receiving last touches. One by one he gathered each “attraction,” and herded them all to Jimmy’s big barn, where the procession was to form. Some were late, Bess for one; but Billy was not anxious about her.,

“Them carrots do smell sweet.”

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He feeds his horse on corn and beans.,

As far as general knowledge went, Betty was a complete encyclopedia ahead of Moses. That youth’s brains had too many labyrinthine passages through which knowledge meandered and got lost to ever lay claim to erudition. As for creative ability, Betty imbibed ideas at every pore. She took odd moments of her busy days and patching them together made hours of creative joy, a sort of mental Joseph’s coat of rainbow brightness.,

In the house, meanwhile, affairs were proceeding quite as happily as those out of doors. The hostess fluctuated between the parlor and kitchen. She was preparing a repast not only for the workers present, but also for the men-folk who would presently arrive to take them to their respective homes. Excused from quilting, she nevertheless managed to spend considerable time with her guests. Mrs. Mifsud was a lady who aspired to literary attainments. She had read “Beulah,” “Vashti,” “Lucile,” “St. Elmo” and many other books of like calibre. She felt that her talents were practically wasted, living in what she termed a desert, yet she strove, when occasion offered, by elegance of deportment and conversation to enhance her gifts. She often spoke tenderly of the late Mr. Mifsud who, in spite of the fact that his face had been adorned with bristling side-whiskers of an undeniable red, had shown in other ways some signs of intelligence and feeling. He had been carried off by the shingles. According to Mrs. Mifsud’s account, her deeply-lamented spouse had considered the tall attenuated form of his wife “willowy,” her long thin black hair “a crown of glory,” her worn narrow countenance with its sharp nose and coal-black eyes, “seraphic.”,

“Oh, Mosey, she un’erstan’s everything, she’s jist wonderful.” Betty’s voice was positive.