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“Them’s thum,” was the sophisticated answer.,
“Where is my cap?” With his free hand he felt his bare head. Looking around the luckless boy saw his headgear in the middle of the font and turned to rescue it. The water became deeper, until he stood in it almost to his arm-pits.,
“Well I’m not going to stay an’ play kid games,” Jimmy retorted loftily, and turned away.,
The strains of “Red Wing” having died away, Mrs. Wopp busied herself setting up the crokinole board. “Me and Par won’t play, jist the young folks,” she announced.
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Moses and Betty were left to mind house, the admonishings of Mrs. Wopp being seasoned with picturesque if carelessly applied texts. The envious might hurl hisses, but Moses and Betty were invulnerable to all such assaults upon their anticipations of the day’s freedom with its already planned joys.,
Billy didn’t see Doctor Carter passing in his buggy, nor hear his greeting; neither did he see the understanding smile; the Doctor easily guessed that Billy was planning fun. And he was; this last week of school should be the happiest ever. Didn’t work begin next Monday? Real work! He couldn’t catch up the bankers in his arms, like his mother, and cajole them into favors. No; it would be all day and every day for a hundred years! Only Sundays, and they didn’t count; for wouldn’t he have to go to church just the same? Mother and sister would be hurt if he “put out to the woods” Sunday mornings. And the bank people, too, would expect him to go to church; hadn’t they said none but steady, well-behaved people could remain in their employ?,
Behind the Mifsuds followed a few other parishioners.,
“We left him by the creek, Ma, playing in the sand,” was the reply. “When Betty and me tried to make him come in he slapped us.”
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The Sheriff smiled at the note of command in the boy’s incoherence. “Not on your life, sonny,” and his voice softened; “we’ve got to have you in our business. Help him along,” he said to one of the deputies, as they came a moment later to where the path broadened; while he walked behind covering the panting prisoners.
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“Come, Betty Girl,” said Moses, “Mar wants you to go to bed.”
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It was apparent to the most casual observer that Mannel’s whole wardrobe consisted of one grey shirt, one pair of faded blue overalls and a pair of braces. To the uninitiated his occasional absences from school for an entire day would have seemed most mysterious. Leading questions as to the cause having been put to other members of the family who were present elicited only a reluctant reply that Mannel was not ill. Further than this they would not go. At last even on the most obtuse one, light would dawn. Mannel was being laundered.
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>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.
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