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The chinking began in earnest. Moses stood, turning till each freckle on his ruddy face shone with honest sweat. This was a poser for Mrs. Wopp, who was obliged to admit that her knowledge of biblical genealogy did not embrace the immediate relatives of Jonah. “It’s time Billy was at home,” he heard his mother say as he opened her room door; and he stumbled on more hurriedly, across the bridge—at last, the Fo’castle!.

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Services were over before she found time to be lonely. Dinner passed happily. The cats stayed quietly in their chair till dessert, when they came, one on either side of Edith, and stood with their forepaws on the table, their heads and shoulders above it. One brilliant Sunday Mr. Wells paced up and down in the sunshine before his little church. An ardent lover of nature he was admiring the beautiful shades of the foliage on either hand and the gorgeous masses of golden-rod that lifted feathery heads to the sun. Presently seeing two or three vehicles approaching he retired into the church. “I wonder ef she guesses you aint my really truly brother. Ef I only had your beaut-i-ful red hair an’ white eyebrows, stead of havin’ yaller hair an’ brown eyebrows. I can’t do nothin’ jist now ’bout my hair, but s’pose I cut off my eyebrows an’ make them look nice an’ white like yours. Mosey,” coaxingly, “you cut them fer me.” “A doctor’s wife gets over ‘expecting’ very young, Billy. They won’t think I’m dead if I don’t come home to lunch. But your mother?” His inflection finished the question..