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“Come with me, Billy; I must wash up. I’ve had a dusty drive up Spring Mountain; you know the roads aren’t watered up there.” “This is a xylophone, take this little wooden hammer and play a few notes.” Moses took the hammer held out to him and striking a wooden bar brought out a weird but sweet sound. He struck several bars in succession and was enraptured to find that they produced a sort of veiled silvery music. “Sounds like the moon looks when you carnt see it fer clouds,” he mused, “Mar thinks I’d make a moosican, mebbe she’s right.” “They’re a regular Damon and Pythias, aren’t they? And we’ll have Flash for the Polar Bear, in the circus, and Tom for the Royal Bengal Tiger, the baby tiger, you know.”.

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“It’s that Jake. He’s sich an ornery animule,” explained the boy, thus shamelessly vilifying a patient and much enduring character. “Jist as soon’s you finish yer dinner an’ yer noon chores, Moses, I want you to go weed them beets,” instructed Mrs. Wopp. “The weeds is chokin’ them out an’ I see the gophers has been eatin’ some o’ them, too.” Mr. Wells the clergyman was of English birth, very conservative and inclined to be shy. He was unusually tall with broad shoulders. Mrs. Wopp once said of him, “When Mr. Wells gits his gownd on, he’s the hull lan’scape.” The deeply pious lady seldom criticized things ecclesiastical; but she had “feelin’s that ef Ebenezer Wopp bed of took to larnin’ like his Mar wished, he’d of looked amazin’ well in that pulpit, better nor Mr. Wells.” “There’s Mose allers ready fer a sitdown, a sort of kerlapsible verlise.”.