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Howard Eliot having left his charges safely at home went to his lonely ranch haunted by rebellious thoughts which Mrs. Wopp would have translated, “Here endeth my knowledge of the female speeshie.” Mrs. Wopp’s bonnet with its imitation osprey looked as though adorned with fragments of barbed-wire. Her jet earrings seemed entirely superfluous as the lobes of her generous ears glowed like rubies. “Oh, Betty,” he begged, “Pease dive me some.”.

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“That big sand pile the kids made last week for a fort can be the Sierras, and we’ll tunnel, and have a loop, and—” “An’ well I know who’s makin’ him stew an’ chomp. You needn’t try to deceive yer, Mar,” chided the knowing matron. 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. She opened the lunch pail and gave him a scrap from it; ate a sandwich herself; and in a moment started off to find the Idean vine. Nothing appeared that fitted her mind’s picture of that creeper; but she found a great sheet of delicate wild clematis, covering the tangled roots of a fallen oak with its pale green tendrils. The earth was soft, the roots easily lifted; and shortly she had masses of it uprooted and trailing after her to the Lodge..