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“What’s the matter, Kiddie? Gee! Those big girls ought not to leave you alone with that fire; you’ll be cooked before the grub!” he grumbled while he mended the fire and propped the kettle. “Yum, yum! Things a-doin’ here. Makes a feller’s stomach feel like just before Thanksgiving dinner.” “But some people like their work, don’t they?” May Nell persisted. She was exploring strange country. The strains of “Red Wing” having died away, Mrs. Wopp busied herself setting up the crokinole board. “Me and Par won’t play, jist the young folks,” she announced..
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Even the white chickens followed in a cackling bunch as they always did when Billy appeared at this hour, for it was almost feeding time. And the pigeons wheeled and whirred, lighting almost under foot only to be up and off again, a flash of white and gray. “One of the brothers, hurt.” “Yes, go away, Billy; I’m not afraid.” May Nell laughed happily. Her quick mind was delighted with the masquerading. There was room on the slip of paper for only this last item, so numerous had been the demands, during this busy day, on Mr. Wopp’s memory..
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