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“’Cause I love you, ’n’ I hope the edges’ll be all pink like my mornin’-glories.”,The kettle which had been boiling itself hoarse for the last hour, was now called into requisition.,“Billy! You’re freezing!” She sprang up and turned on the light.,But Moses refused to dilate on the subject. He realized that some of the cream might be removed from his achievement were he to explain the matter of the cave. He so seldom had the felicity of being placed on a pedestal, and his present status must be maintained if possible. So he murmured something to the effect that the others were so slow he thought he’d “jist go ahead o’ them an’ try to find the blame kid a little farster.”,Now he flew off down the county road at a speed that made passers turn; but he saw no one. He neither slackened nor looked back till he found himself at the river where the little island rose, flower-crowned. The poppies were fewer; and where a month before the flame-flower had triumphed, to-day wild roses perfumed the air.,“Moses, I hear yer Par comin’ with the hay,” announced Mrs. Wopp, suddenly. “You’ll hev to go help him with it.”,And so the story went on. All the wholesome things of the country that children like had come from one and another. And each had been as happy in giving as Billy could possibly be in receiving.,CHAPTER XV.—MERRY-MAKING IN THE HAY-LOFT.,Billy halted and looked up into the threatening sky. His eyes twitched, and he noticed wonderingly that his breath was short and his hand shook on the handle-bar. He dismounted and propped his wheel against the fence; climbed down to the river and sat on a projecting rock, with his feet dangling near the water.,“Oh no Betty,” Moses tones were of an elder-brotherly authority, “yer li’l han’s aint meant fer sich servitood. I’d not stan’ by an’ see you do that.” With all his teasing at times, Moses adored his little foster-sister. He idealized her, and as Mrs. Wopp had often remarked, whenever Betty left his presence he saw her ascend into heaven in a “Whirlwin’ of fire, an’ go-cart of flame.”,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.,“Who is going to auction the quilt when it is finished?” inquired Nell Gordon, appealing to her hostess as President of the Ladies’ Aid..