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“Come, Jethro, Betty’ll carry her li’l white puppykins, pore li’l footsy’s so sore.”,

He woke early the next morning. This was rare for him; he usually slept like a bear in midwinter. Perhaps the creaking of the windmill all through the night made his slumber light. Another noise had disturbed him, the sewing machine. Its whirr had come up to him from the open window of the living-room. He knew mother and sister were sewing hard, that on the morrow the poor little stranger might be suitably clad. He had brought upon them this extra work! And this was only the beginning. If the child’s mother was not found they must buy clothes as well as food; and this would take a lot of his sister’s money.,

Gamin’ out the thorns an’ charff,,

The pianist walked on the stage as the eyes of Mrs. Wopp and Moses rested on Betty. Howard Eliot had not taken his gaze from Nell Gordon expecting momentarily to catch her glance and to be rewarded by a smile. A smile radiated her fair face, but alas! It was not for him.

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In the house, meanwhile, affairs were proceeding quite as happily as those out of doors. The hostess fluctuated between the parlor and kitchen. She was preparing a repast not only for the workers present, but also for the men-folk who would presently arrive to take them to their respective homes. Excused from quilting, she nevertheless managed to spend considerable time with her guests. Mrs. Mifsud was a lady who aspired to literary attainments. She had read “Beulah,” “Vashti,” “Lucile,” “St. Elmo” and many other books of like calibre. She felt that her talents were practically wasted, living in what she termed a desert, yet she strove, when occasion offered, by elegance of deportment and conversation to enhance her gifts. She often spoke tenderly of the late Mr. Mifsud who, in spite of the fact that his face had been adorned with bristling side-whiskers of an undeniable red, had shown in other ways some signs of intelligence and feeling. He had been carried off by the shingles. According to Mrs. Mifsud’s account, her deeply-lamented spouse had considered the tall attenuated form of his wife “willowy,” her long thin black hair “a crown of glory,” her worn narrow countenance with its sharp nose and coal-black eyes, “seraphic.”,

“You’re a brilliant youth Moses,” smiled Howard approvingly, “and sure to get on in life. You don’t appreciate your own cleverness half as much as I do.”,

[42]Mrs. Bennett did not know, as her son did, that the retort touched a sore fact. Jimmy’s eyes darkened with the look that had earned for him the name of “Sour.” Yet in spite of this he had a fine, strong face.,

By this time Betty was getting hoarse and instructed her perspiring assistant what next to shout and the most fetching modulations of voice to use. The change in program was bellowed in Moses’ raucous voice, “An orstrich here, only fifty cents to see a live trained orstrich!” A huge swallow and he continued, “Brought from Carliforny and trained by the famousest lady Betty Wopp.” After further instructions he went on, “This orstrich is named Job Wopp. He kin lay the largest aig in the world, kin run faster than any horse, could strike you dead with the hoof of his clawr.” Further whispering on the part of Betty and the address concluded, “Yet, ladies and gents, he is as gentle as a spring chicking.”