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A gleeful yell greeted his paraphrase. While they ate it all came out, how they had planned and executed. Harold had peas and strawberries hidden in his mysterious basket, freshly gathered by his own hands that morning. George and Jimmy had furnished and dressed the chickens, and the girls had roasted them—with a little supervision from Mrs. Bennett—in the Yukon camping stove that belonged to Harry’s mother. Bess had given the dishes, blue and white enamel, strong as well as good to the eye, and ready for many another frolic.,

He decided to go first on the mountain and set his traps for rabbits; also to mark the bounds for the “chase,” so that they could gather on time at the island and go on with the second canto. If they didn’t “do” two cantos a day they wouldn’t finish; for Friday must be given to school. As it was some of them had to be at the school house each day at three to rehearse for the “last day” exercises.,

“But it isn’t ten o’clock.”,

“Betty’s not goin’ to no kingdom come yet,” assured Mrs. Wopp, her optimism rising like a star of the first magnitude to lighten the darkness of her son’s midnight sky.

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CHAPTER IX RED GOOSE FLESH,

Still, since Billy had broken his resolution of silence, he was feverishly eager to talk. His thoughts were erratic, now in the present, again flying back to the past. “O mother, you should be lickin’ me ’nstead of petting me!” he broke out passionately.,

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.,

“Aint it amazin’ how hungry one gits,” hoarsely remarked Mr. Wopp who had not spoken for some time owing to close application to the task in hand. “Lize, I want a piece of that punkin pie of yourn.” Here he caressed the bulging buttons on his waistcoat. “My mouth’s waterin’ fer it an’ I b’lieve I hev room.”