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“I’ll help a lot. You shan’t have a bit more trouble, sister; nor mamma, either.” He began to distribute the plates with noisy clatter.,“It’s up to you now, my girl,” he panted under his breath. “The board will bend—you mustn’t be frightened. Fix your eyes on the tree—come fast.”,“Come, Betty Girl,” said Moses, “Mar wants you to go to bed.”,“Was it as bad as that?” She smiled, and smoothed back the thick, tumbled hair.,The dance was held in a new barn of which the floor was especially good. Indeed the young people of the family had seen to that. Unfortunately the stable end of the building was already in use and this proved to be somewhat inconvenient. During the festivities of the evening one delicate lady fainted from excitement and overpowering stable odors. She speedily revived, however, on being carried into the fresh air and soused with a bucket of cold water. The building was illuminated with lanterns and an occasional oil lamp. Benches were ranged along the walls. The crowd was large and as usual at these affairs men predominated in numbers. The dances were mostly square ones and when a husky caller-off became hoarse and exhausted with shouting, another took his place. He usually stood at one end of the building beside the fiddler.,St. Elmo clapped his tiny hands and asked for “Moah,” while Norah Bliggins, who had been almost petrified when she heard the voice of Mrs. Wopp, sat hoping no one would ask her for the golden text. She was devoutly thankful that she could get up from her cramped position. A wide lath in the upturned box which served as her seat had broken and she had sunk deeper and deeper until her chubby chin and knees were in close proximity. It required the united efforts of Maria and Betty to extricate the unfortunate child. The doll was safe, however, and with fortitude worthy of emulation still smiled although sawdust again trickled from her re-opened wound. Henry started up a lusty crowing and Moses began to whistle while Betty uncovered the windows and made other preparations for leaving the loft. Several of her pictures had been spoiled by the rain and the box reduced to a soft pulpy mass.,“Say, little kid, what’s your name?” he asked, merrily, as he routed a great white cat from his own chair and placed it before the fire for the child.,“What’s the Golden Text, Norer?”,In his overcoat Mr. Zalhambra seemed to fill the doorway as Mrs. Newman greeted him. A moment’s private talk and the hostess understood the situation. From the drawing-room a ripple of childish laughter reached their ears.,As they neared the house with their disquieting news, Mr. Wopp and Moses were just alighting from the democrat, while Mrs. Mifsud at the open door stood calling out cheery greetings.,St. Elmo’s face brightened with intelligence. He broke into the story to give a graphic account of how a little yellow chicken of his sister’s had got “dwownded” in the pig-trough.,“Oh, Billy!” she said, despairingly; and he knew in spite of her smile that she disliked his words. “The little girl is looking for you. She is lonely; you must amuse her.”.