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CHAPTER IX.—THE VAUDEVILLE SHOW. The strains of “Red Wing” having died away, Mrs. Wopp busied herself setting up the crokinole board. “Me and Par won’t play, jist the young folks,” she announced. Once Billy’s attention was fixed he was as earnest at work as at play. He slaughtered the weeds rapidly, and had several clean beds behind him when his mother called him to breakfast..
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“You young scamp, you found water, didn’t you, more than you needed? For the love of St. Patrick, if it isn’t the spalpeen that split his sides laughing at me falling on the ice yesterday!” May Nell looked incredulous. “And they feed her strawberries and vanilla beans and chocolate for flavors, I suppose; but how do you separate them when you milk? Will you show me the next time you fill that big bucket?” She nodded her head toward the freezer, and was so demure that not even Bess, still less Jimmy, knew whether she was deceived or poking fun. Moses’ intuition regarding St. Elmo’s retreat proved to be correct, and it was a sadly dejected countenance on which he gazed when he looked into the cave. Tears, dirt, and the juice of Saskatoon berries mingled on the fair sleeping face of the child, until he seemed to be the very Cree Indian he had so often personated in his play. His long curls were tangled and matted with small twigs. His diminutive brown velvet coat displayed a large rent in the elbow through which oozed a pathetic-looking suppuration of pink and white checked shirt. Another gift Moses brought his little sister was a small shell purse containing a new silver coin. This largess was in a way expiatory. He had not yet regained his self-respect since his refusal to grant Betty’s request for a quarter, and it seemed as though the act of expiation must repeat itself indefinitely..
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