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She turned back and rode up by his side. “Why shouldn’t a girl ride as fast as a boy?” She had a bright, frank face, and her brown eyes were as honest as they were beautiful. “But it isn’t ten o’clock.” He ran back a few steps and found a loose board he had climbed over when coming up. This he carried to the edge of the wall. “When I call,” he spelled out, “break window, use chair, come across on board.”.

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“Oh, the kids’—boys’ dogs are mostly old or else too fat to run, like Bouncer. I guess the rabbit can get away,—too soon, perhaps. We’ll have you for Fair Ellen.” Having disposed of the song, dear to her mother’s heart, in spite of the protestations of Moses, Betty went to the kitchen and in a few moments returned with a steaming pot of tea. May Nell needed no second request to “catch the racket and bring it in.” She flew downstairs, and presently up again, arriving with a breathless story. “O Billy, the circus train’s wrecked! There won’t be any circus next week! Some of the animals are all dead, and the fire burned some— Oh, I can hear them scream now, can’t you?” She put her hands over her face and shivered. The basket piled high with snowy linen and cotton seemed almost to overflow the brim. Betty pressed the clothes down with her brown hands, while the complaining boy enlarged on the sordid details of that trying wash-day and on the manner in which his mother had teased him. The child’s sense of humor outbalanced even her sympathy and a peal of laughter rang out. Her laugh was a long delicious trill, as though a bird had dropped from the clouds singing still with the sunrise tangled in its notes. Moses paused long enough for a procession of commas and semicolons to pass by. Then seeing his disappointment in her apparent lack of sympathy, Betty hastened to console him..