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“O mother, how can there be joy if life is all work and never any fun?” He took her hand and pressed it against his cheek.,“A cat tablecloth!” the little girl laughed.,“No, we won’t!” came a dozen voices.,“And there are many times when the duty itself is disagreeable, yet doing it brings a finer joy than shirking it ever could bring.”,Whose feet never tire,,“Did you hev a good time in the city larst week, Mis’ Mifsud?” asked Mrs. Wopp, politely.,Upstairs the lightning filled Betty’s room with a weird intermittent radiance. The child had become increasingly drowsy and asked Howard to sing her to sleep.,“My conscience! How lovely and stylish you look!” The child, accustomed to elegant dress, praised with discriminating eyes.,Up, up Billy climbed. On the bare spaces, or balanced on the point of some slender rock, he stopped frequently to look down on the beautiful valley below; on little farms laid out checker-board fashion, dark green squares for orchards, lighter green for vineyards, with tree-lined lanes running between. Overhead fleecy clouds chased one another like freshly washed, woolly sheep across the blue pasture of the heavens. In the north the great blue mountain loomed, all its opalescent tints and shadows hidden till the setting of the sun should light them forth.,Now the band came up, a troop of boys in gorgeous uniforms made of red calico and tinsel paper. A drum and fife kept tolerable time; but the wheezy harmonicas and paper-covered combs, the tin horns and clanging triangles, quite “covered” any tune the fife attempted. Yet what matter? It was a joyful noise; and even the horses kept step to the valiant drum.,“But Mrs. Carter’ll expect—” Billy began, yet stopped, for the physician was laughing.,“Never mind Jobie, we want Jethro to win anyway, don’t we?” said Betty, presenting to the turkey her pocket filled with grain..