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“I’m chored from mornin’ till night, an’ arfter I go to sleep I do some more chorin’ jist to keep my hand in.” Moses was in a distinctly peevish mood.,
“Yes, I seen them an’ smelt them, too; they shore ’d delight the heart of an Eskermo, Betty.”,
“Good-by Dad and Mar and Mosey,” called Betty as she sped down the path toward the school-house.,
They turned into the town’s finest hotel, just opened.
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“I b’lieve I’ll go an’ git the warterin’ can,” announced Betty. “These pansies is orful dry, an’ even ef the sun is shinin’ on them, some warter round the roots wont hurt. You stay here, St. Elmo, an’ I’ll be back in a minute.”,
Nell’s answer was somehow strangely muffled.,
“Billy, I don’t like the look of your eyes; you’re reading too much at night,” his mother said one evening when he was helping with the dishes. “You must go to bed earlier.”,
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.
All but May Nell; when Edith and Mrs. Bennett rubbed and warmed her she declared she didn’t need it, and was so absorbed in lamenting the loss of the Fair Ellen, she could think of nothing else.
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Her questions brought long and wonderful tales of Billy’s younger life; of Edith when she, too, was a little girl. The child helped to set the table, carried in bread, salad plates, and jelly. “It shakes like the fat woman at the circus when she laughed. How do you make jelly?”
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“Moses,” she directed, “git an empty apple-box fer the burnt orfferin’s.”
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And so the story went on. All the wholesome things of the country that children like had come from one and another. And each had been as happy in giving as Billy could possibly be in receiving.
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Halin-Chen Response,
>Mrs. Wopp surmised from the dejected appearance of the young rancher, coupled with the smiles over the footlights which she had observed with rising wrath, that trouble was brewing, and she whispered audibly to herself, “A musician’s orl right on a pianner stool, but when it comes to gittin’ up in the mornin’ an’ choppin’ wood to bile the kettle give me a farmer.” Her cogitations became louder. “I s’pose he thinks cos he has a percession of carpital letters arter his name he can git anyone fer the arskin’. When he smiled so at our Miss Gordon I could of slain him with the jawrbone of an arss.” In her championship of Howard’s interests, Mrs. Wopp became an ardent villifier of the pianist and she administered an oral castigation with feminine vigor.
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