“Billy, my little, little boy!” She lifted the tousled head and pressed her cheek close against his.,
“Wisht I had two bits.”,
Mrs. Wopp viewed with misgiving the ornate writing not yet erased from the previous lesson. She feared her own handwriting would suffer by comparison.
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S Billy Bennett wheeled around the corner he saw his mother in the doorway. Also he saw Jean Hammond across the street speaking with Bess Carter,—the Queen of Sheba, the children called her, she was so large and dark and handsome, and had such a royal way, like a sure ’nough queen, one said. Though why children who had never been out of Vine County should know so much about queens no one thought to ask.,
“Try agin, Mose, now not too hard! Easy like! There! Jest a leetle bit more! Stop! Hold on! Shucks! Everythink’s went wrong! Here, we’ll start agin.”,
“Oh, no,” he sighed; “I suppose duty is the first business; but duty is such a narrow, knock-you-down little word.” His voice was tense and hard.,
“Never mind, Mosey, we’ll tell Miss Gordon. She’ll give them sulphur an’ brimstone to-morrer.”
It had been Mrs. Wopp’s aim, to have the names for all the members of the household sanctified by biblical authority. She claimed to have had unnumbered admirers in her youth and had singled out her husband for his scriptural appellation. A store of names had been secretly acquired for use in the event of her marriage, but as in the course of years only one boy had come to add freckles and rotundity to the family circle, she was thankful that she had used at least three of the collection on the fortunate youth. Moses Habakuk Ezra Wopp, the exact counterpart of his mother, sat next to his father and eyed the plate of Betty, who was seated beside him, mentally calculating the amount of each succulent morsel she consumed. Since he was twice her size, he was entitled, he thought, to at least twice her share. On his own plate a lonely pickled onion floated in gravy.
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Developer Response,
[89]“Mother, do come and look at the procession,” Edith called cautiously from the trellises, where she was slyly watching.
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It’s a Quan-Yuan
“Warsh yer ban’s, Mosey, an’ Par, an’ come on, Mar, here’s yer tea an’ crackers. Wisht I hed a piece of jelly-roll.”
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Betty said her prayers that night before her cyclamen. It seemed to her a “mornin’-glory that had been growed by an angel, its petals sparkled so, an’ it smelled so pure.” She breathed very softly her thanksgiving, with a vague feeling that it had wings and could find its way better than she knew.
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Halin-Chen Response,
>The child reared without pets was delighted with the animal life about her; the cats, old Bouncer, the white chickens, and pigeons cooing in the loft.
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