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Maurice looked up at her with tear-filled eyes, and tried to say something. The effort was vain; not a sound issued from his swollen lips. Billy promptly advanced to give first aid.,

It was the family Bible. She had placed it there after reading her son Anson his evening chapter. Slowly she mastered herself and sank back into her chair.,

"No," supported Landon, "weather's too warm, you see, Chick. I'll start in on dressin' 'em right now," he chuckled, exchanging winks with Billy.,

Several times during the next half hour Billy, allowing his gaze to wander across the church, caught those blue eyes fastened upon him and his heart began to flutter strangely. An ungovernable desire to misbehave himself took possession of him. Never in his life had his head felt so light—unless it was the night when he and Maurice had inadvertently mistaken hard cider for sweet and had nearly disgraced themselves. He was not even aware of who was beside him on his seat, until a pair of stubby fingers pinched his leg and he came down to earth to look into Jim Scroggie's grinning face.

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Billy spit out the fox-tail. "Where's this feller Scroggie now?" he asked, in a business-like tone.,

Billy sighed. "That's awful good of you, Ma, an' I sure would like to have Jim over to supper, but he's so fond of his sister he won't go anywheres without her, you see.",

"Well," said Captain Acton, "I may say of Nelson as Pope said of Dryden: Virgilium tantum vidi. I was on the Hard when two Naval officers came ashore. I was thinking of other matters, and scarcely observed them until they were abreast or a little past me. Then my glance going to one I instantly perceived he was Nelson. His companion, I believe, was Troubridge. In the glimpse I got of Nelson's face I was struck by its paleness and careworn appearance. He looked at least fifteen years older than his age. They passed rapidly out of sight. I cannot express the emotions which that one-armed little figure excited in me—St Valentine's Day, the Nile, Copenhagen!",

Billy waited for no more. He was up and away like a shot. Mrs. Wilson, clutching her gold piece in one hand and brushing back her deranged hair with the other, went back into the house.