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“Shan’t we defer the ceremonies till we can get Charley’s little sister and Jackson’s two weeks’ old brother?” Jimmy asked, disagreeably. “I did hunt the aigs,” lied the unhappy Moses who was afraid he was going to miss something. On the morrow, before returning home, he made several purchases with the money his mother had slipped into his hand as she whispered, “Hev a good time, Mosey, but don’t fergit to say yer prayers reglar.”.

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“You know she never does nothin’ to us really, Moses, no matter how she jaws. Come on, you clipped yer pony so lovely an’ evenlike. The horse-clippers is bangin’ on the wall behind you.” It had been Mrs. Wopp’s aim, to have the names for all the members of the household sanctified by biblical authority. She claimed to have had unnumbered admirers in her youth and had singled out her husband for his scriptural appellation. A store of names had been secretly acquired for use in the event of her marriage, but as in the course of years only one boy had come to add freckles and rotundity to the family circle, she was thankful that she had used at least three of the collection on the fortunate youth. Moses Habakuk Ezra Wopp, the exact counterpart of his mother, sat next to his father and eyed the plate of Betty, who was seated beside him, mentally calculating the amount of each succulent morsel she consumed. Since he was twice her size, he was entitled, he thought, to at least twice her share. On his own plate a lonely pickled onion floated in gravy. “That ole bantam has shore got some speeditood,” reflected Moses, in gasps, as he made several futile plunges for Tillie. Billy laughed. “Mixed again, mamma. This is Vilette,” he drew one bashful little girl nearer the stranger, “and this is Evelyn, Echo, we call her.”.