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Oh, where have you been, charming Billy?”,
“Don’t go off Mr. Potter’s land, will you, May Nell? The fenced part, I mean. Eat some lunch soon; Billy may be gone an hour longer. Good-bye. Don’t get too tired. I’ll send Clarence if I can find him.”,
Mrs. Wopp had a request from Mrs. Williams. She, the requestor, was ill with a touch of “pewmonia,” as Mrs. Wopp afterward related, and would Mrs. Wopp the requestee oblige by taking her Sunday-school class for the following Sunday afternoon.,
“When I heerd Par swear I run inter the kitchen, an’ there he stood with suthin red orl down his face an’ neck. A ketchup bottle on the shelf above had bust over him an’ I thort it was blood. ‘Ebenezer Wopp,’ I says, ‘whose been tryin’ to arssarssinate yer?’ All he said was ‘By Heck,’ but a forty-horse power gun couldn’t of roared through the kitchen louder ’n them words.”
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“Grand chain,” bawled Geordie evidently feeling his importance, “dos-et-dos, ladies’ chain, swing on the corners, and put some feelin’ in your step.,
“Say, little kid, what’s your name?” he asked, merrily, as he routed a great white cat from his own chair and placed it before the fire for the child.,
Mrs. Bennett smiled at her mistake and went in, while Billy took up his mower. The girls looked at one another in the mute scrutiny children bestow on newcomers, May Nell the least embarrassed of the three.,
“Some of the real stuff,” he requested, “just to make these folks realize they haven’t begun to live yet.”
“I knew it!” Billy panted feverishly. “The Ha’nt!” Heedless of the dog running with his nose close to the ground, Billy rushed on. His shirt was torn, his trousers hanging by one suspender, his shoes cut and one tap turned back. Ashes whitened his hair; though at the back a dark mat was still damp from oozing blood,—the handkerchief that had bound it had been torn off by a twitching twig. His smarting eyes watered so that he could hardly see his way. Yet of all this he was unconscious. Weariness, pain, his cracked and bleeding lips,—he knew nothing of them, felt nothing.
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Harold turned and looked to where May Nell stood with the twins, sorting her flowers. “Isn’t she a daisy, though? Little—why, she’s only a baby.”
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“Gosh!” he exclaimed, as Isobel closed on the last startlingly unexpected note, “that’s where some feller planks his strawr hat on a beauty butterfly!”
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He climbed cat-like to the crest again, slid through the brush, dashed across bare spots, jumped from rocks that jutted in his way, struck stones but righted himself before falling, truly “hit only the high places,” as he breathlessly told the girls waiting for him at Ellen’s Isle.
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Halin-Chen Response,
>“I reckon Joner hadn’t any too much light,” opined Mrs. Wopp.
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