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St. Elmo Mifsud, his angelic face framed in silky curls, now became the prey to the machinations of Pete Solway, who had eluded the vigilant eye of Mrs. Wopp during her dramatic recital. A roar of pain escaped the child as a sharp tweak was applied to his curls. Recalled to matters entirely mundane, the teacher administered severe reproof.,She turned back and rode up by his side. “Why shouldn’t a girl ride as fast as a boy?” She had a bright, frank face, and her brown eyes were as honest as they were beautiful.,“’Pears to me, Pat Bliggins, you haven’t been listenin’ proper to the story. These men rode a ship not a cayuse.”,The captivating music of Grieg’s “Butterfly” floated through the room and Moses watched the white supple fingers of the player with breathless eagerness.,As Moses clattered down stairs, Mrs. Wopp continued, “There is shore a thunderstorm comin’ up to-night. ’Pears to me I heerd like a roll of drums.”,Thus adjured by his father the elocutionist began in a loud dramatic voice:,The scene ended in a crash of music; the curtain fell to a house wild with cheering. Edith and the principal performers were called again and again before the curtain. It was a generous, appreciative audience, giving its heartiest approval by rising.,“St. Elmo’s lost, Ma,” wailed Maria. “We can’t find him and he’s wandered down the creek.”,The frenzied cries of the child were distinctly audible in the kitchen where sat Mrs. Mifsud and Mrs. Wopp, the latter busily engaged in mending a pile of socks. Both ladies sprang to their feet and hurried through the open door towards the garden, Mrs. Wopp still wearing a half-darned sock on her left hand and scattering others as she ran. They were followed by Betty, who had been filling her watering-can from the rain-barrel and had also heard the cries of the frightened child.,There was a stir in the room. His mother stood—May Nell, too—and the cat stretched lazily on the couch. Sister Edith followed the guests to the porch, as did his mother and the little girl—the room was empty! He opened the kitchen door, tried to hasten noiselessly, yet thought he clattered like a threshing machine. Into the living-room he crept, and lumbered softly up the stairs that seemed a mile long.,“Oh, poor li’l Nancy wants in!” She raised the window and gently lifted the cat into the room. Running to her place at the table, she poured half of her cup of milk into a saucer and set it in a sunny spot on the floor.,When the program was over Moses noticed enviously that Betty was so close to the orchestra that her ear was almost in the trombone..