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The eloquent teacher looked to see some immediate tangible effect from this bald statement of the result of Jonah’s disobedience, and during her recital gazed sternly on Pat Bliggins and Pete Stohway as objects the most in need of her oratory.,

Billy turned the bulky papers over and over as if to gather some hint of their meaning from fold and stiffness. “What is it, Mr. Smith?” he asked wonderingly.,

“That’s you, papa,” Clarence piped, as an anxious post warning.,

Mrs. Bennett looked fondly at Billy, then back to Mr. Smith. “Thank you,” she said slowly, trying to gather courage for what she was to say. “Billy must not be paid for doing his duty. With the money he has earned from the State I am sure we shall be able to help him through a good schooling; for the rest my husband’s son must win his own way.”

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In the front seat of the Wallace school sat Mannel Rodd. Nell Gordon declared that he was the roundest object she had ever seen in human form. Though he had arrived at the mature age of five, he still retained that cherubic appearance which one sees in the paintings of old masters. His eyes were as round as the rather sparsely-located buttons on his shirt. His nose was a small round knob. When he opened his little round mouth to lubricate a squeaky slate pencil or perhaps to enunciate some such interesting statement as this, “The cat is on the mat,” he disclosed a row of pearly little teeth. Indeed his whole face would have been as round as the moon, were it not that his chin took an unexpected little saucer-like curve in the very middle of it.,

This conversation took place in Billy’s shop, a room adjoining the wood-house and given over to his use. Nothing short of the world in the second verse of Genesis was equal to the chaos of that place. Every conceivable scrap and job lot of “truck” was there in a jumbled heap; and Billy was never happier than when mussing it over in search of “material”; in greasy overalls and crownless hat, whistling merrily, bringing forth to substance and form the inventions of his busy brain.,

“Wisht that orful pitcher ’d fall inter the swill-pail an’ then turn a somerset in the soot-pile,” murmured the boy as he noticed the care exercised over its safety.,

It was a proud and happy family that returned to the Wopp homestead late that evening. The air being chilly, a fire was lighted in the dining-room and around this inspiring centre there was much discussion of the days doings. The unparalleled sagacity of Moses was the jubilant theme running in the minds of his parents and sister. Moses bore his honors modestly.