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CHAPTER XIX.—BETTY’S ILLNESS. But a second idea came that made him fidget about the room, lift his bandage and watch the children on their way to school. His record for attendance for the year had so far been perfect. He knew that he owed it partly to his mother’s tireless watch of the clock, and wondered why he had not realized this before. Now it was to be broken; she would be as sorry as he could be; and it would have counted well toward the prize. He tried to calculate how many days he could be absent and still have left some chance of it. The work was all reviewing, he almost knew it, anyway. If he only had his books,—but no, they wouldn’t let him use his eyes. “A new kind of hen,” retorted Moses..
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Presently Moses’ thoughts returned to the meals provided by the restaurants of Calgary, and he decided it would be a good pastime for some rainy day to relate it all to Betty especially about the “little minners suffercated in rice an’ tryin’ to climb onto rafts of lemon-slices.” Here she produced a picture of a nest of young robins, their beaks wide open for a tempting morsel hanging from the bill of father robin. “Thank you kindly, Mrs. Wopp, I was most enchantingly entertained. My brother and his wife conducted me to numerous functions. I heard a xylophone for the first time.” “Betty dimples in an’ out, like Mar’s dough,” he remarked, joyously, “she’s shore gittin’ better.”.
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