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“Yes, go away, Billy; I’m not afraid.” May Nell laughed happily. Her quick mind was delighted with the masquerading.,

However, the stove-pipe was at last cleaned and ready to put up. Moses’ moroseness had by now developed into a complaint, the chief symptoms of which were sniffling and coughing.,

But at last they got under way and proceeded as quietly as possible down the back street to the home of Mrs. Lancaster, where Buzz, as the “Prize Baby of Vine County,” awaited them in his car, which was very handsome,—one would never have dreamed it was only a large wash-tub strapped to a coaster; flowers and cloth do make such wonderful changes if handled with art!,

“How much will you pay fer them fer my missionary box?” bargained the child. “Will four shinin’ new quarters do?”

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“My father didn’t let my mother work when he was alive; but he—he died.” Billy bent lower over his weeding, and both were quiet.,

“Hold your grouch, Sour,” Harold expostulated.,

In the house, meanwhile, affairs were proceeding quite as happily as those out of doors. The hostess fluctuated between the parlor and kitchen. She was preparing a repast not only for the workers present, but also for the men-folk who would presently arrive to take them to their respective homes. Excused from quilting, she nevertheless managed to spend considerable time with her guests. Mrs. Mifsud was a lady who aspired to literary attainments. She had read “Beulah,” “Vashti,” “Lucile,” “St. Elmo” and many other books of like calibre. She felt that her talents were practically wasted, living in what she termed a desert, yet she strove, when occasion offered, by elegance of deportment and conversation to enhance her gifts. She often spoke tenderly of the late Mr. Mifsud who, in spite of the fact that his face had been adorned with bristling side-whiskers of an undeniable red, had shown in other ways some signs of intelligence and feeling. He had been carried off by the shingles. According to Mrs. Mifsud’s account, her deeply-lamented spouse had considered the tall attenuated form of his wife “willowy,” her long thin black hair “a crown of glory,” her worn narrow countenance with its sharp nose and coal-black eyes, “seraphic.”,

Mrs. Wopp was overcome with laughter at the bare memory of the picture her irate husband had presented.