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“Please, Mister, my nose was bleedin’ an’ I lorst my way lookin’ fer warter, an’ here I am on Jording’s stormy banks.” One corner of the garden was devoted to flowers, and in this spot the soul of Betty delighted. True, there had been many insidious foes to conquer before a satisfactory result had been obtained. The seedlings which had first appeared in the spring had been destroyed by a cruel frost. Other seeds were sown with many hopes. These grew feebly and were carefully tended by the child. Then the heavy rains came, lasting several weeks, and it seemed as though the tender plants would be bodily washed away. Betty, clad in Moses’ slicker, visited them one stormy day, and as she realized their danger, her tears mingled with the rain-drops on her cheeks. But the Storm-King was only acting his worst, because his reign was nearly over. Next morning, when Betty rose, the clouds had rolled away and the golden sun himself was peering at her through the curtains. Since that time of anxiety the plants had grown and thrived and excepting for an occasional day of strong winds and the nibblings of a few gophers, had had no setbacks. “To-morrer’ll see my revenge,” growled Moses, now thoroughly roused to action under the protection of his own roof..

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“I hate to have you stay without Jean,” Billy objected. In his anticipation of the Sunday afternoon treat in store for him, Moses dreamed all that night of little dark-skinned men running round after him with bowls of rice and jabbing him with chop-sticks. “Shame on you Moses, rampagin’ an’ bellerin’ there like a gang of coyotes,” remonstrated his mother. He arrived home Monday evening, and was received as though a visit of several months’ duration had torn him from the bosom of the family..