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“Oh, chuck the business,” Jean said impatiently. “Can’t it wait till noon? I must go home then.” “Yes, I s’pose we can listen to you scramble up and down the piano keys all night, but if I do anything it’s another story.” “I see two rigs comin’,” announced Mrs. Wopp, suddenly. From where she sat she could view through the window a considerable portion of the trail. “The men’ll soon orl be here, so s’posin’ we roll up the quilt. Ef everybody’s back’s achin’ like mine they’ll be glad to quit.”.
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The Bennetts’ was one of the oldest places in town, and the most beautiful. It was near the heart of the growing village ambitiously calling itself a city. Level lawns protected by high hedges and shaded by many trees, spread amply around the house and back to the first terrace, where a tangle of berry vines covered trellises that shut off a lower level devoted to vegetables. Beyond this was the chickens’ domain, rock-dotted acres that sloped sharply to where Runa Creek boiled over its stony bed. Here mother hens fluttered and scolded while web-footed broods paddled in the edges of the stream. “We came—we came to bring these,” one ventured timidly, and lifted one end of the basket they carried between them. CHAPTER IV.—WASH-DAY AT MRS. WOPP’S. “And help?” May Nell asked, eagerly..
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