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“Yes, thank you. But most my heart is hungry. Will you help me to find my mama?”,

“Oh, Billy To-morrow! You won’t have half time enough to play. You’re a regular Mexican,—always mañana!”,

“Yes, you shall be our dear little girl.” Mrs. Bennett took the forlorn child in her motherly arms and kissed her. “You’re tired and hungry, too, aren’t you?”,

“O Billy, think how many gophers Flash catches, and what gentlemen they are in the house,” Edith defended. She was chorister for one of the churches, and was now gathering her music.

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In the meantime Mr. Wopp sitting precariously on the edge of the sofa was examining for at least the two-hundredth time the red plush album which contained the records of the Wopp family, past and present, in picture form. He looked long and earnestly at a tin-type representing a plump, velvet-coated, mop-haired boy of twelve. He sighed deeply.,

He woke early the next morning. This was rare for him; he usually slept like a bear in midwinter. Perhaps the creaking of the windmill all through the night made his slumber light. Another noise had disturbed him, the sewing machine. Its whirr had come up to him from the open window of the living-room. He knew mother and sister were sewing hard, that on the morrow the poor little stranger might be suitably clad. He had brought upon them this extra work! And this was only the beginning. If the child’s mother was not found they must buy clothes as well as food; and this would take a lot of his sister’s money.,

“My mama doesn’t believe in public school,” she had announced that first Monday morning; but had gone obediently when Mrs. Bennett decided it best. And the new life, the stimulation of study, the competition in class, her knowledge of books, and the prestige of her story,—these made school a delight, brought a happy light to her eye, a tinge of color to her too fair cheek.,

Several ladies of the district were already busy “scttin’ up” the quilt when Mrs. Wopp and her satellites entered the Mifsud parlor.