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“Surely; but—”,“You never give my cats a chance,” Billy complained.,“Here Mosey,” said Betty, “is a tin crown. You can fasten it on with this wire. See?”,Next appeared Jethro in a high state of hilarity with a harness made of Moses’ skate-straps and with a tiny doll dressed to represent a monkey bound to his back.,Artful Bess! Billy had treated it all as a huge joke; but now May Nell’s depression, the unfamiliar sound of his right name, the dim room with its shadows and half-suffocating odors,—all conspired to send a sober Billy into the circle of lurid light that came from the two lamps gleaming on either side of dark Bess like angry eyes.,The pursuit lasted longer than was anticipated and was most disastrous to the clean kitchen floor. Betty and Moses themselves got soot on their shoes and their footprints wrought havoc in the spotless kitchen.,“La now! An’ why do you say that, my dear?” inquired Mrs. Wopp. “Set up straight, Moses, yer back looks like you was packin’ a sack of pertaters.”,“Leave the boy be, Lize,” directed Ebenezer Wopp, whom the pride-inspiring events of the evening had rendered more self-assertive than usual. “He aint crowin’ none, an’ what he done brung credit to the hullo’ us.”,Next appeared Jethro in a high state of hilarity with a harness made of Moses’ skate-straps and with a tiny doll dressed to represent a monkey bound to his back.,Max was the first to be quite ready with his exhibit. It was a queer creature that one gradually discovered to be some sort of a bird; though such a one had never before been seen on land or sea. Max had arrayed his mother’s big white gander for the occasion. A turkey-tail fan made a huge breastplate, if one can imagine a breastplate of feathers. All the long-tailed roosters that had been killed in town for months, one would guess, had contributed to the coat of sprawling feathers that was tied over the body of the bird. And no one knew by what magic the boy had coaxed some one to lend him the magnificent peacock plumes that rose high above the little wiggling goose tail.,“No, my son.” The answer was more sincere than a few weeks before she could have believed possible. The coming of the child had taken from her life many hours of association with Billy, sweet as only mothers know; yet May Nell’s influence had softened and refined Billy, enlarged his vision.,To his mother and sister Billy seemed changed. He stuck closer to his books. His teacher told them the boy stood at the head of his class. “Jimmy Dorr may be a rival if he feels like work, which isn’t probable. Jean’s accident last year put her behind, otherwise the boys would have to work much harder if either excelled her.” Yet even these welcome words did not account for some things the mother quietly observed; Billy’s growing promptness, better attention, and memory for matters outside of play. He was more silent, too; and there was less hammering and whistling in the shop..