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“Orl right Betty, I’ll do it, but ef it is a poor job don’t blame me,” returned Moses as he advanced with the scissors. “But s’pose you change yer name, Miss Gordon,” whispered Betty slyly. “Then nobody’d know ’twas you.” “That’s for Billy’s cats; mine need none,” Edith declared..

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A gleeful yell greeted his paraphrase. While they ate it all came out, how they had planned and executed. Harold had peas and strawberries hidden in his mysterious basket, freshly gathered by his own hands that morning. George and Jimmy had furnished and dressed the chickens, and the girls had roasted them—with a little supervision from Mrs. Bennett—in the Yukon camping stove that belonged to Harry’s mother. Bess had given the dishes, blue and white enamel, strong as well as good to the eye, and ready for many another frolic. Billy felt his head lift a little higher at his mother’s words; felt a new standard of honor and independence leap into being. The house was too small for him. He ran out into the summer evening, down the hill to the big rock that overhangs Runa Creek. The stars were beginning to shine, and he could hear the tinkle of the water below. Bouncer rubbed against him, and Billy hugged him to the peril of the old dog’s breath. Nell’s answer was somehow strangely muffled. “Mudgie never saw any fairies,” replied Mrs. Mifsud, “But she is glad St. Elmo can see them.”.