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“I’m the Royal Egyptian Fortune Teller!” Bess announced, in a deep voice. “This is my desert tent. I shall reveal the past, present, and future to those only whom my favor shall designate. Slaves, the lamps!” Job’s feathers that to Betty’s eyes had taken on the glory of ostrich plumes, drooped disconsolately, while Moses denounced in fluent language the stupidity of the fowl that had caused the unfortunate episode. He declared loudly that he would like to wring the aggressive portions of those feathered culprits. The group stood for a moment, a miniature Vesuvius erupting lava and ashes, while Moses wrung the offending liquid from Betty’s yellow drape and the magenta antimacassar. His sense of the ludicrous however overcame his wrath, “My Eye Betty!” he cried, “I near kerlapse every time I draw up my curtings on Job.” “Yes, we shall marry her ourselves,” Evelyn echoed; while both girls made childish efforts to rehabilitate the depressed cousins..
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Conrad
“Just in time, I reckon,” the Sheriff said[219] facetiously; “pull up that chest and come along to our party.” “This is Evelyn Dorr, and Vilette, her sister,” Mrs. Bennett was saying. “Come, Jethro, Betty’ll carry her li’l white puppykins, pore li’l footsy’s so sore.” “They’d look purtier, Glory, ef you’d put more colors in,” commented Mrs. Wopp..
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