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That was not difficult, for the soft silk slipped into a knot as strong as if tied in hemp. “All this turnin’ is good for the liver too you know,” she continued, as her son’s vinegary expression remained unaltered. “Well?” she questioned..
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“Ain’t she her own aunt?” hazarded Mr. Wopp, abstractedly thrusting his hammer into his boot top and scratching his bald head with a pair of pincers. “Yeh,” scoffed Moses, “this here turnin’ machines every Monday makes me sick. I aint got no liver left to be cheerful.” Half an hour later Charley went back to the disappointed remnants of the show gathered in Jimmy’s barn, and told them Mrs. Carter had said, “no more circus this day for Bess.” Buzz and his laughing Chinese had been hurried to safety. The Roc had shed a part of his false feathers, and was fast giving himself away as plain gander. The White Elephant had also become restive, and it was thought best to transfer the Fair Princess of Bombay from her howdah to terra firma. And the Goddess of Liberty, minus her car, and a part of her draperies, and plus a big smooch on her cheek, was somehow not very imposing. Various other livestock became weary or rebellious, and the Siamese Twins had to be severed to prevent their coming to blows. This conversation took place in Billy’s shop, a room adjoining the wood-house and given over to his use. Nothing short of the world in the second verse of Genesis was equal to the chaos of that place. Every conceivable scrap and job lot of “truck” was there in a jumbled heap; and Billy was never happier than when mussing it over in search of “material”; in greasy overalls and crownless hat, whistling merrily, bringing forth to substance and form the inventions of his busy brain..
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