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“Stop Mar, lemme go, you are wrong,” gasped the little man whose efforts to escape from her clutches had grown more and more feeble. “Drat that man, anyhow, why carnt he say what he means?” answered the mortified lady. The jeers of the youths on the benches added to her discomforture. Nell began to wonder whether her mind and constitution were robust enough to allow her to engage in such festivities as these very often.,“The fairies might git cross,” countered Betty.,“Here, Mose, hoi’ this here jint while I fit the next one inter it.” A tongue-twisting silence ensued.,Betty’s tears by now were flowing too fast for her to make an answer. She picked up the whimpering dog and proceeded to carry him home. From time to time Moses stroked the quivering head and murmured low phrases of comfort.,“My conscience! How lovely and stylish you look!” The child, accustomed to elegant dress, praised with discriminating eyes.,Mrs. Bennett leaned over him without speaking for a minute, but stroked his hair softly. “Remember, with One there is no ‘forever.’ As long as we live we have a chance to retrieve. Rest on that, my child. Now you must sleep.” She kissed him and was silent, for a drop glistened on his cheek she knew he would not wish her to notice.,“Moses iny boy, yer bile must be riz; this very night you git a dose of physic.” Moses lower lip dropped lower and lower.,Having disposed of the song, dear to her mother’s heart, in spite of the protestations of Moses, Betty went to the kitchen and in a few moments returned with a steaming pot of tea.,“Wisht I had two bits.”,“Clarence will tell the men where to instal their teams,” the hostess reflected. The boy, who had fought shy of this mere woman’s party, had spent the afternoon in the barn.,“Come, come! We can’t be cremated while we wait. Mush!”,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..