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The operetta opened with a weird winter scene, when the Sower (Harold) sowed his grain, and the gnomes and elves set upon him; and evoked Storm King (Jimmy), Wind (Bess), and Frost (Jackson). He was the comedy of the little drama; and dressed all in black, covered with silver spangles and diamond dust, he made a joke that the wine-growers appreciated, for it is the black frosts of April they fear.,The Wopp family had two domestic pets, a plump tortoise-shell cat called Nancy, and a black and white terrier named Jethro, after the father-in-law of Moses, the great law-giver.,Billy had intended naming it The Jean, but Charley had stood for Queen Bess, Harold didn’t like either name, and George and Jimmy had objected to “girl kid names, anyway.” They had, however, unanimously compromised on The Edith, for Billy’s sister was adored privately by all of his older friends, adored openly and “tagged” by the little ones. Edith, since May Nell’s coming, suggested her name. The little girl agreed if it could be Ellen; Billy added “Fair” with her permission; and this name he painted over each paddle wheel with no opposition from the others.,Billy cuddled down in the low-growing manzanitas, whose screen was further thickened by a tangle of wild pea vines all a-bloom. Placing himself so that he could watch both the house and the man on the hill, he settled to await further disclosures.,“Come here Betty, till I clean yer face. Where is that boy Moses? I know he had a hand in this. Drat him anyhow,” said the incensed Mrs. Wopp.,“I like Sunday School best ’cause I do things there.”,The perturbed lady wisely let the question pass not being absolutely clear herself as to the operation involved in the casting of lots. She hastened to take up the thread of the story.,“None of your nonsense,” replied the long-limbed pedestrian, his thankyou’s cut short by Moses’ cheerfulness.,“He’s been pushin’ up the daisies fer thirty years, I ain’t goin’ to warble to please no tombstun.” Moses swung a ponderous foot to give emphasis to his decision.,By this time Mr. Wopp was bearing a length of pipe into the yard. The parlor looked like a morgue with its inanimate objects lying bidden under sheets and cloths of varying degrees of past usefulness. Through a hole of one sheet could be seen the listless towzled head of Hannah, her faded wax countenance betraying the need of a tonic.,“White eyebrows child! What are you talkin’ about? Yer eyebrows are blacker nor that stove.”,Mrs. Bennett was setting the table. She put down a pile of plates, and a new anxiety came into her careworn face. “A child? I told Mr. Patton I couldn’t take one.”.