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“By heck!” he thundered. Bess’s coming launched the procession. People in the vicinity who had not before known of the presence of a circus, knew it now. Everybody talked at once, and every living thing made its own kind of a noise. Billy as Master of Ceremonies had his hands full, his voice full too, one might say. The gentle words, the tender touch, the comfort and hope in her words, unlocked his lips and he told what he had thought to keep forever untold..

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Billy heard the hatted one say “So long!” saw him start down a path that followed close beside the stream, perfectly hidden from any one who might be walking the crests above. The other man brought a pail and started up the hill. Moses reappeared with a tray. The tea had been spilled as foretold by his Mother, but sufficient was left for the party. Betty drank from a dainty cup, her little finger straight and rigid as was fitting for the delicate hand-painted china. On reaching the hay-loft all were seated with the least possible degree of discomfort on upturned soap-boxes and apple-boxes. Betty covered both windows with blankets and lit a lantern. She had constructed a pasteboard box with a large square opening and now set the lantern in such a way that a picture placed at the opening in the box was illuminated so that all could see it clearly. Betty showed her pictures in a well arranged order and her lively imagination supplied the connecting links in the story her lantern “slides” unfolded. “Maria, where is St. Elmo?” asked Mrs. Mifsud, as with flushed face she basted some fowls in the oven..