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“What’ll I sing Betty?”,“Bring him here.” The man stepped out and laid his hand on a sapling that grew beside the Lodge. May Nell followed with the dog.,Billy breathed deep. How he loved this opulent valley which was his birthplace and home! He longed to see all the world, yet he thought no other place could be as beautiful.,“Oh, Billy, how could you, when mother has so much to do?” It was his sister, Edith, who spoke, her sweet face clouded with rare disapproval. Yet she went on with the music lesson she was giving.,“Y-yes, b-but how can I when I have no one to say ‘mama’ to, only a Mrs.”,Presently he raised his head and was confronted by Job the turkey wearing a tiny bright pink hat and a green ribbon round his neck. An antimacassar bearing wide magenta and red crocheted stripes covered his back causing him to strut with peacock pride.,“That’s a string bass.”,St. Elmo looked at the specimens in his hand. “These pansies is most deaded. I fink I’ll fwow them away,” he declared.,Billy ran off full of vague expectation born of his mother’s smile. No one in all the country round, not even Harold Prettyman, whose father had the finest farm in Vine County, had such a splendid place to play as the Bennetts’ back lot that sloped down to Runa Creek. As Billy slammed the gate and bounded out on a huge boulder that hung over the creek, a sounding cheer greeted him from below.,“What yer whistlin’ so mournful like?” queried his mother, “makes me think of funerals an’ sich like; jist come in an’ help yer par with the stove-pipes, mebbe that’ll cheer you up.”,“Jimmy.”,In the short moments that had passed since their coming the Sheriff saw that the fire had gained perilously. Instead of sparks great flaming brands dropped all around them; the crests of the ravine were sheets of fire that swept downward, wrapping every tree and shrub in their path, making of the pines huge towers of flame..