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“Wisht that orful pitcher ’d fall inter the swill-pail an’ then turn a somerset in the soot-pile,” murmured the boy as he noticed the care exercised over its safety.,“The Sheriff tells me a thousand dollars will be paid to your account as soon as the State settles, Billy. Here’s something else for you.”,They looked at her a minute, dropped reluctantly to the floor, and retired.,The shower was over in a few moments and all prepared to leave the barn for the house.,Just then he saw a wagon in the distance rounding the curve of the mountain. This was his minute. He must get her before that team passed. Then if any one attempted to prevent him he would have help. He turned back to May Nell.,“Bully fer you, ’s Gordon,” shouted the excited Moses leaping furiously. “Keep her goin’. Ole Dan Tucker jist fits that toon.”,“Where is the dern dog hurt?” commiserated Moses.,From the waist down, Moses’ masculine and uncouth figure seemed to utter a dull protest against cut-me-downs. There are many forces in life that growing youths are not able to control. One of these, in the career of Moses, was the inexorable will of his mother that ordained homemade garments for his nether limbs. Made from his father’s discarded trousers of black and grey check, the new pair of abominations that adorned the legs of the youthful Wopp bore evidence to the unskilled fingers of the maker. They had the generous dimensions allowed by an imaginative and economical mind that could look into the future and could see legs lengthening and a general expansion. In fact, the coarse checked tweed fell in slight gathers, fore and aft. The dingy greenish-grey coat that slouched from Moses’ shoulders did not fail to heighten the effect, but seemed to set the costume in italics.,“Don’t care a doughnut,” answered Moses defiantly, “I’d ruther turn the washin’ machine any day than stand like a goose spellin’ words any arss can spell.”,“I wouldn’t jist say he cant git up, Mrs. Wopp, fer Mrs. Bower sewed the tear up fer him; but the pants bein’ still on him and Joe bein’ shy-like she felt too narvous to make a good job of it an’ I reckon Joe is afeard those few stitches Mrs. Bower put in may not be very secoor.”,“Mebbe them new seed catalogue folks cheated us, Mar,” he suggested.,If I only had an Idean vine; what is it, Billy?”.