Moses adored his little foster-sister when she was well; but sick, his adoration turned to blind worship. For several days Betty had been ill. Moses’ religion, bottled up during care-free days, burst forth in foam of intercession for Betty’s return to health.,
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.”,
“Pull it tighter.”,
“Are you hungry, Isobel?” questioned her mother.
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This suggestion called for a general discussion. One or two very conservative ladies were not sure that a young man who so frequently played a prominent part at dances should also figure in church affairs. It might bring a curse on them. However, as there was no immediate need for decision, the subject was abandoned.,
“I’m sorry to make you late with your mowing, Billy, but I must have you go out to Mrs. Prettyman’s for some cream she promised me.”,
“My papa told me to be a very brave little girl, and no matter what happened to take care of my mama. And now—I’ve l-lost her; and my braveness is all leaking away.” She covered her face with her hands and sobbed bitterly.,
“Wot fer? You girls is alius thinkin’ o’ money.” Moses clinked the nickels in his pocket with the air of a Vanderfeller. Betty’s voice became wheedling.
“It’s only your notion, Billy, that mother’s cream is best; but I’ve been very happy making it for you.” She began at once to serve it.
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“That’s what I’m hurrying for. Mamma sent me on an errand to Mrs. Black’s and I want to be back at the station in time to see the train come in. I wish we were going to have a refugee. Wasn’t the earthquake awful?”
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rp577-Wong,
It’s a Quan-Yuan
“Is theh faywies wound heah, Betty? Can they see us?” inquired the little boy in awe-struck tones.
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But on the whole Billy was proud. “The kids showed their pluck and stuck to their jobs,” he told his mother afterward. The White Elephant bellowed impressively in front of the postoffice; and Jimmy’s ponies never reared so gracefully as in front of the bank.
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Halin-Chen Response,
>“‘You bet’ isn’t nice,” the child chid gently, and waited a moment before continuing. “My papa won’t let my mama work. He went to South America to get rich. When he comes back, he wrote in a letter to me, I shall be as rich as a princess.”
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