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The boy was very still for a little, but burst out presently: “I’m going to work, mother; as soon as school closes I’ll start.”,Billy was off, fear lending fleetness to feet that a moment before had been leaden. He overtook his mother and Jean in the path to the Lodge. “Have you come for her?” he panted. “Do you think she’s alone still?”,“Nothin’.”,“To be shore you kin,” was the reply, “but don’t hurry too much an’ smarsh the crockery.”,“It’s only your notion, Billy, that mother’s cream is best; but I’ve been very happy making it for you.” She began at once to serve it.,Diligently as Betty had tended this little garden, it was considered to be a family possession, the child’s own particular treasures lying beyond its fragrant border. Her cherished morning-glories and climbing nasturtiums found a welcome support in the old wooden fence.,But he was not to be hindered. “It’s only a scratch, mother; you can fuss it up all you want to later; but you mustn’t stop me now!” He pulled away from her and bounded up the path.,Mrs. Wopp was overcome with laughter at the bare memory of the picture her irate husband had presented.,“Betty dimples in an’ out, like Mar’s dough,” he remarked, joyously, “she’s shore gittin’ better.”,Billy stooped to tie shoestrings already tidy; he was gaining time for thinking. “I reckon doing things you don’t like is work, and doing things you do like is play,” he explained, doubtfully.,Thoroughly enjoying her task, Betty flitted from flower to flower until she had gathered an armful of the lovely blossoms. Then visiting the vegetable beds she appropriated a few feathery sprays of asparagus. Returning to the house, she made up her bouquets. One, a great mass of yellow, lightly flecked with green, she set on a small table which stood in the darkest corner of the dining-room, then stood back to view the effect.,“Not yet, but they must all go to-night.”.