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Betty’s tears by now were flowing too fast for her to make an answer. She picked up the whimpering dog and proceeded to carry him home. From time to time Moses stroked the quivering head and murmured low phrases of comfort. “Here, let me do that,” Harold commanded; “you go and do the rest of your work. We won’t get to play in all day. The Gang coming?” “He mustn’t git thinkin’ too much of hisself ’cause o’ what he did this day,” warned the boy’s mother. “Pride goes afore distruckshing, an’ a horty spirit afore a fall.”.
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Conrad
Betty, orphaned at the age of six, had been adopted by the kind-hearted Mrs. Wopp. The child found her chief joy in life, outside of Jethro, Nancy and Job, in a flower-bed. A small plot of ground had been allotted her for her own use, and there every spring for the last four years her precious flowers had bloomed and had filled her eyes with brightness and her soul with gladness. Morning-glories and nasturtiums were the surest to bloom. They climbed the strings so gracefully and turned the old weather-beaten fence where they grew into a tapestry of gorgeous dyes. This act opened with a hidden chorus that lasted two or three moments, the fairies on the one hand inviting the elves and gnomes to join them; the others responding. While this was in progress Billy rushed to the boys’ dressing room and talked furiously but straight to the purpose. “Tell us how you found him, Moses,” requested Nell Gordon, who was always interested in tales of knighthood. “How in the name of orl the aporstles did that hen git in there?” questioned Mrs. Wopp..
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