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“Why not arsk Geordie Hodgekiss. He’s sich a grand feller fer helpin’ at dances, an’ his voice ’ud most wake the dead. I feel shore he’d hev the good o’ the quilt at heart.” “Billy! I’ll tell you what let’s do; we’ll make a circus ourselves!” “Oh, no,” he sighed; “I suppose duty is the first business; but duty is such a narrow, knock-you-down little word.” His voice was tense and hard..

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“My feet’s purty well jolted up inter my head,” cried the uncomfortable rider. But Betty insisted on his getting full value for his money, and dared him to descend until the round of the arena had been completed. “We shorely are glad to hev a teacher at larst,” re-asserted the bustling lady of the house, as she passed a cup of creamy tea to her new boarder. “Did you hear what happened to our larst teacher, Miss Gordon?” Here the good lady heaved a deep sigh. “The pore man hed a tryin’ time with some big boys named Bullock who started in to school larst fall arter workin’ all summer. The teacher used to spend his evenin’s to Bullock’s bunkhouse, playin’ black-jack with ole man Bullock.” Vigorously all joined in the closing hymn and Mrs. Wopp’s high soprano could be heard above all the other voices. A sense of duty well performed added even greater power to the vocal billowing. “What! Bread jist outer the oving! There aint a sinner this minute but what begun his vile career on a slice of fresh bread. Indisgestion shore fills jails an’ ’sylums more nor drink. You carn’t hev one slice till to-morrcr.”.