Emu War

Emu War ⚡With its position as one of Asia's leading bookmakers, is always a meeting place for serious bettors.⚡ “I’ve never worked,” May Nell said reminiscently; “but there’s one hard thing I’ve done—I’ve kept very still when mama has her headaches.”,“Papa went away to South America when I was eight. He told me I must be very wise and help mama to do what was right,—sometimes she does take my advice, you know. I’ve tried to be brave so God would bring her back to me; but my braveness isn’t very strong yet, or I wouldn’t cry so, would I?” she questioned, with a teary little smile.,Maria, accompanied by Betty, repaired to the spot where they had left the little boy. He was not there. In vain they shouted and called his name.,“Don’t Job look jist like Mariar Mifsud goin’ to meetin’,” gurgled Betty.,The child had been content to extract but fleeting moments of sweetness from the confection and as the weeks passed had in the time-honored custom kept the canes shining. Thus accumulated quite a bagful of the tempting sweets. These she sold to a haughty plutocrat at school for a dime. This coin of the realm made a pleasing clatter in her wooden box; but she reflected, not without some degree of logic, that ten cents would not go very far in carrying salvation to the suffering heathen in Africa.，“You bet!” Pretty endorsed, inelegantly.，“O, that chestnut!” scornfully ejaculated Isobel.，“Sharpen these pencils, Moses, please, for the drawing lesson.”“Don’t stan’ starin’ there like Betty’s chiner doll, go git another of my pies.”

The kettle which had been boiling itself hoarse for the last hour, was now called into requisition.,“Oh Miss Gordon,” cried Betty, her dark brown eyes sparkling with delight, “the flowers can talk to each other across them telfone wires, can’t they?”,Mrs. Bennett smiled at her mistake and went in, while Billy took up his mower. The girls looked at one another in the mute scrutiny children bestow on newcomers, May Nell the least embarrassed of the three.,CHAPTER XI GOOD-NIGHT IN THE FO’CASTLE,On the wall hung a gilt-framed portrait, which rumor said represented Ebenezer Wopp, a wreath of carefully made wax flowers, a silver coffin-plate framed and bearing the name and date of demise of Mr. Wopp’s mother, and two or three colored chromos.,Here his laughter became a series of concussions decidedly menacing to his well-being.,“You look orful, jist like you was growin’ a pair of speckled toothbrushes. What ’ll Mar say? You carn’t go to school like that.”,May Nell! Where was she? He had forgotten her! It must be three—four— Oh, how late was it? Was she safe? Or had she fainted from fright; and was she lying there now, helpless? He looked across the plashing river to the green, blossoming isle, grateful for water and grass and green shrub, and the sheltering Lodge that would keep her safe from the fire. Yet the terror of being there alone, of seeing that awful sheet of flame sweep down the mountain to her very feet,—perhaps a fainting spell,—that surely must have followed,—with no one there to revive her, it might be—fatal!,This time Moses was more successful. Comforted, he felt he could enjoy a few morsels himself. Calling the contrite Jethro, who, after extricating himself from the ruins he had made, had retired under a bench, the boy made his way to a remote corner. Here no parental admonitions would disturb him. He surveyed with pleased expectancy an enormous triangle of pie, a huge slab of gingerbread, a monument of glistening iced cake, half a dozen tarts, and a few other trifles he had brought with him.,“S’Gordon won’t care,” grunted Moses. “She never had to wear Par’s old pants, an’ she won’t un’erstan’ how a feller feels.”,The pianist sat easily at the piano and began the Moskowski selection that had failed to create the expected furore in the afternoon. A cadenza that shivered down the spine like spray from a glacial torrent wakened the room. Then he plunged into the first theme. His small audience listened spell-bound. Betty’s eyes followed the fingers that leaped over the ivory keys like white flame. A subtle current began to play in the room. Steadily it grew in power. Magnetism to the nth degree was being generated. A tremendous chord brought the music to a close and the pianist to his feet. Something in Nell’s glance inspired him. He whirled about the room whistling and imitating some of the cadenzas and other passages from the selection just played. He gesticulated wildly with his hands, the passion for dramatic music oozing from his pores.,“Who is going to auction the quilt when it is finished?” inquired Nell Gordon, appealing to her hostess as President of the Ladies’ Aid..