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“Them critters has swore more than I ever heerd sence the ketchup bottle fomented an’ bust an’ splashed orl over Par’s shirt an’ trickled down his pants.” “Yes,” Billy answered breathlessly as he leaped from the buggy; “but we’ll have to go in the way I did if you want to catch ’em sure. We can come out by the trail.” Betty, orphaned at the age of six, had been adopted by the kind-hearted Mrs. Wopp. The child found her chief joy in life, outside of Jethro, Nancy and Job, in a flower-bed. A small plot of ground had been allotted her for her own use, and there every spring for the last four years her precious flowers had bloomed and had filled her eyes with brightness and her soul with gladness. Morning-glories and nasturtiums were the surest to bloom. They climbed the strings so gracefully and turned the old weather-beaten fence where they grew into a tapestry of gorgeous dyes..
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“They’d look purtier, Glory, ef you’d put more colors in,” commented Mrs. Wopp. “Orl right, Mar,” answered Moses, dutifully, his mouth watering in anticipation of the goodies in prospect. Supper over and dishes hurried out of sight, the floor was once more cleared and the real business of the evening was resumed. The operetta opened with a weird winter scene, when the Sower (Harold) sowed his grain, and the gnomes and elves set upon him; and evoked Storm King (Jimmy), Wind (Bess), and Frost (Jackson). He was the comedy of the little drama; and dressed all in black, covered with silver spangles and diamond dust, he made a joke that the wine-growers appreciated, for it is the black frosts of April they fear..
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