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“Are you hurt?” Billy spelled with the hand alphabet every boy and girl knows. The basket piled high with snowy linen and cotton seemed almost to overflow the brim. Betty pressed the clothes down with her brown hands, while the complaining boy enlarged on the sordid details of that trying wash-day and on the manner in which his mother had teased him. The child’s sense of humor outbalanced even her sympathy and a peal of laughter rang out. Her laugh was a long delicious trill, as though a bird had dropped from the clouds singing still with the sunrise tangled in its notes. Moses paused long enough for a procession of commas and semicolons to pass by. Then seeing his disappointment in her apparent lack of sympathy, Betty hastened to console him. May Nell had learned to use the towel; and the two children usually “did” the dishes at night; but now she was away with Edith at the Opera House, and mother and son were alone in the kitchen..

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Billy was the sun, dressed in a pale yellow tunic, and crowned with a fillet of sun-bursts cut from gilt paper. He came but a little way on the stage from the south for each of his short solos; and the others pelted him back. Especially did he hide from Rain behind Cloud, a tall girl in a small ocean of gray tulle. Then one day, after several years, a stranger had come to town with a startling story. He said that he had been a sailor on the “Wanderer,” when she had made her last voyage. The ship had been blown in a gale upon the rocky coast of a small island in the south seas. He with several others of the crew and a few passengers had managed to get to land and had been hospitably treated by the natives. A small trading-vessel which regularly visited the island had taken them off in the course of the next few weeks, but one of their number, a passenger named Snoop, had refused to leave. He had asserted he might as well be there as anywhere else. Later reports brought from the island by the crew of the trading-vessel had been to the effect that Mr. Snoop was leading a tranquil and peaceful existence. He was espoused to several dusky maidens and was so much revered and respected as the only possessor of a white skin on the island, that he was never expected to stir hand or foot in any way suggesting work. For an instant he looked as if he would beat her. Then his face broke into a smile that held no fear for her. “Say, kid, you’re up to the limit; and I’m on the square with you. In three days, if you obey me, you’ll jump into your dad’s arms. I’ve got to lock you up now; but nothing’s going to hurt you, and I’ll see that you’re comfortable.” They looked at her a minute, dropped reluctantly to the floor, and retired..