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“Well, I must get at my job, too. That’s thinking up things. You fellers do your work an’ get your money; but I got to rustle that money or bust.”, It was too bad! There could be no show in the barn. But the band was still lusty, the trick ponies remained, the boys and girls were eager to talk it over, and—the procession had been a success!, 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..