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Although the temptation to reckless haste was great, Betty resisted it. It was not long, however, before a pile of shining blue willow-ware was restored to its accustomed place on the oil-cloth-covered pantry shelves, and Betty, seizing her sunbonnet, hurried out of doors. One brilliant Sunday Mr. Wells paced up and down in the sunshine before his little church. An ardent lover of nature he was admiring the beautiful shades of the foliage on either hand and the gorgeous masses of golden-rod that lifted feathery heads to the sun. Presently seeing two or three vehicles approaching he retired into the church. “That’s the reason. She says a boy will spoil the part; won’t get the shivers like she will. She thinks a minstrel can’t—can’t minstrelize properly without the shivers.”.
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Nothing loth to keep the distance between himself and Nell at a minimum, Howard Eliot entered with zest into the boy’s plans. “Kettle’s a-bilin’, Glory Girl, an’ Par an’ Mose’d like a cup of tea; but ’fore you leave the organ, play ‘Greenland Icy Mountains,’ it’s been runnin’ in my head orl day.” “Who is going to auction the quilt when it is finished?” inquired Nell Gordon, appealing to her hostess as President of the Ladies’ Aid. 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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