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The child was gifted in this most elemental of the arts, and her histrionic ability carried along the interest of her listeners even when the printed matter on the back of the paper interfered with the clearness of the picture. Her imagination bolstered up the defects of dry facts.,“Yes, thank you. But most my heart is hungry. Will you help me to find my mama?”,“Come here Betty, till I clean yer face. Where is that boy Moses? I know he had a hand in this. Drat him anyhow,” said the incensed Mrs. Wopp.,NEITHER boy nor dog paused till they came to the dusty road. There Bouncer stopped and ran excitedly about the spot where the big man had taken May Nell in his arms; doubled back on his track, stopped again, and looked up at Billy, perplexity written all over his face. Billy encouraged him with word and caress; but he came at last, put his nose against Billy’s knee, and whined apologetically.,“Yes, Captain,” she answered, her eyes aglow while she smoothed refractory frills. She wore a wonderful trailing robe of tissue paper, “ruffled to the guards,” Billy said. On her head was a towering cap of the same; and a light wind bellied out her wide angel sleeves like sails before a spanking breeze.,“Gosh!” he exclaimed, as Isobel closed on the last startlingly unexpected note, “that’s where some feller planks his strawr hat on a beauty butterfly!”,“Well now Howard Eliot I carnt see nothin’ in that to larf at. It is grand readin’. Do read another,” said Mrs. Wopp.,Rain dropped her gray mantle behind a tree, and reappeared with her chalice of diamond-dust dew, to touch the fairy chorus to shimmering beauty. The gnomes, their queer masks and hunched shoulders showing grotesquely under their gray garb, joined the fairies’ dance. Wind came floating in as Summer Breeze. Storm was transformed to the Slave of the Sower; while Black Frost was perched high up at the rear, grinning from the top of the mountain.,“But, Mose, you shorely didn’t fergit a sorft answer turneth away wrarth?”,It was May Nell who first broke the silence. She had been thinking. “It isn’t so very bad to have to work, is it? Your mama looks happier than my mama does. She said she’d rather wear calico and work ever so hard, and have papa at home, than be the richest, richest without him. She cries a lot—my mama does. And now—she’s crying—for me.” The last word was a sob.,“No, Billy never forgets his cats,” his sister answered for him; “though the chickens might sometimes suffer but for mamma. Take your ill-bred felines out, Billy.”,“Singe my hair ef I do, let’s hev some more doin’s,” rebelled Moses..