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“We’re seven,” came the echo.,However, the stove-pipe was at last cleaned and ready to put up. Moses’ moroseness had by now developed into a complaint, the chief symptoms of which were sniffling and coughing.,“We left him by the creek, Ma, playing in the sand,” was the reply. “When Betty and me tried to make him come in he slapped us.”,The man gave him an affectionate slap. “Go, then. You’re a right game kid, sure.”,To-day his mother’s words had left a pang. He would soon be a man and have to “think for himself.” Yes, and work, too. “Gee whiz! It’ll be tough not to play any more,” he exclaimed under his breath as he bowled along the tree-lined road that led to the Prettyman farm.,“Moses, yer as useless as the hole in a doughnut; here quick gimme yer handkerchief till I mop up yer Par.”,“Gee! Betty,” laughed the boy, “yer eyes look orful yet, this is the fust good shake my sides hev felt to-day, it’s jist been ’orrible the way Mar was jawred.”,Ebenezer Wopp sat at the head of the table. Beaming from behind a promising array of cups and saucers, his portly wife presented a countenance of aggressive hospitality. In height and girth Mrs. Wopp had much the advantage of her husband.,“Flash has cake, Sir Thomas cheese,” Edith explained, giving each his coveted bit. They took the morsels from her fingers, ate them delicately, and mewed once. “That’s ‘Thank you,’” Edith interpreted.,“Yes, Mosey, I jist want to go to my mornin’-glory garding to tell it good-night.” She rubbed her sleepy tear-stained eyes.,Jean and the twins, Charley, George and some others, rattled down the stairs; while Clarence and Harry stood rigid, with wooden scymitars drawn, one on each side of the door.,“O, Dadsie,” was the reply, “this is recital afternoon, you know.”.