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A period of silence followed excepting for the slight sounds made by the workers, the drowsy humming of flies, the murmur of an occasional bee and the faint rustlings of the tall stalks of corn. Billy suspected his mother was waiting for him; he must hurry, he thought. Yet he couldn’t resist showing off a bit. He bent over his wheel, went by the girls with a rush and a “Hello!” made a neat turn, wheeled a figure “8” around a team or two, shouted, “Don’t frame up anything there!” as he passed a second time, and whizzed through the arch in his own high hedge with one wheel in the air. “What is the matter with your hand?” May Nell asked as she drew the work-worn hand down and patted it. “It doesn’t feel like my mama’s. And you have only one ring, a plain one. Are your others in the bank? My mama has ever so many,—diamonds, rubies, and such a big sapphire, perfectly exquisite! And they look elegant on her hand,—she has a perfectly beautiful hand.”.

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Mrs. Wopp was overcome with laughter at the bare memory of the picture her irate husband had presented. In the middle of this trying work, Moses remembered he had glimpsed a large tempting piece of jelly-roll on the pantry shelf. As soon as an opportune moment arrived he slipped, unnoticed as he thought, into the pantry and immediately life took on a new and brighter interest. “This here thing looks like a mule with his ribs druv in an’ stan’in’ on his haunches. What d’ye call it?” Another sound in a somewhat higher key was heard. Moses had simply modulated in his domestic symphony of labor from a major task to a minor one. As a change and refreshing recreation, Moses was allowed to turn the small wheat-mill. Ninety soul-stirring turns it required to empty the hopper once, and he must turn out enough flour for a batch of bread. His youthful soul was in revolt at such servitude. He had no sympathy to squander on the children of Israel in bondage vile. Making bricks for Pharoah was infantile amusement compared to his labor..