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“I must of looked like that Lize or the picter couldn’t of been took.” Ruefully he rubbed his bald crown. In the front seat of the Wallace school sat Mannel Rodd. Nell Gordon declared that he was the roundest object she had ever seen in human form. Though he had arrived at the mature age of five, he still retained that cherubic appearance which one sees in the paintings of old masters. His eyes were as round as the rather sparsely-located buttons on his shirt. His nose was a small round knob. When he opened his little round mouth to lubricate a squeaky slate pencil or perhaps to enunciate some such interesting statement as this, “The cat is on the mat,” he disclosed a row of pearly little teeth. Indeed his whole face would have been as round as the moon, were it not that his chin took an unexpected little saucer-like curve in the very middle of it. “We hev a homestead an’ pre-emption, Miss Gordon, but only work a hundred acres or thereabout. We run stock on the rest of it, aint that the how of it Lize?” Mr. Wopp looked to his help-meet for corroboration..

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Betty was still faintly laughing at Moses’ spirited retort to his mother’s observations on his singing. “Alone?” “Avaunt, hesitating noddy! The angel child is quite safe!” Bess waved an arm, partly bare and brown in spots. “Them’s thum,” was the sophisticated answer..