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“But your school, my child! You must be educated; you—”,

IT was a gray, cold day, unusual for May, the kind of day that accords with ill-nature. It reminded Billy of the incident of the opera when Rain and Storm, driven by his own insistence, had blown in on the stage quite out of season, and dragged off with them the remnants of winter. For the first Sunday since May Nell’s coming he took his wheel after dinner and went off alone. He was in accord with the sullen sky and air. In the morning he had answered his mother angrily; because Bouncer wished to play instead of coming through the gate when called, Billy had slammed it on his tail, knowing well that in a happier mood he would have been more careful.,

He placed them before him, Rain and Storm, took his great golden horn of plenty under his arm, stepped on the wheeled board, signalled the super, and rolled on, driving the crouching pair in front of him with pelting showers’ of rose leaves, and landing at his station just as the chorus filed in. The gray pair threw their shrouding mantles over the truck, and still crouching pushed it out of sight; and the spectators, believing they had laughed in the wrong place, cheered vociferously, and never knew the difference.,

Not unwillingly the boy relinquished his task. Weeding after all is thankless work. The weeds will persist in growing in spite of every discouragement.

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“Oh, don’t wait for me,” Billy exclaimed, opening his eyes suddenly; “you won’t catch ’em! The fire’ll get there first! Hurry! Leave me alone, I tell you!”,

Max was the first to be quite ready with his exhibit. It was a queer creature that one gradually discovered to be some sort of a bird; though such a one had never before been seen on land or sea. Max had arrayed his mother’s big white gander for the occasion. A turkey-tail fan made a huge breastplate, if one can imagine a breastplate of feathers. All the long-tailed roosters that had been killed in town for months, one would guess, had contributed to the coat of sprawling feathers that was tied over the body of the bird. And no one knew by what magic the boy had coaxed some one to lend him the magnificent peacock plumes that rose high above the little wiggling goose tail.,

“That’s what I’m hurrying for. Mamma sent me on an errand to Mrs. Black’s and I want to be back at the station in time to see the train come in. I wish we were going to have a refugee. Wasn’t the earthquake awful?”,

“Ef it hadn’t been fer Mosey, St. Elmo might of been lorst yet,” remarked Betty, gazing reflectively into the fire. “Ef he was goin’ walkin’ on till he found Joner, he’d of been gone a long while.”