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THE day was fine. Billy, not long released from his green shade, wondered if the world was ever so lovely before; the flowers so sweet, the birds so joyous. Could it be only a few short weeks since that gray Sunday? Billy’s confinement had quickened him, introduced him to himself; now he looked on life with wider eyes, with a more understanding heart. “Orl right, you rascalashus coaxer, an’ go make some tea an’ fetch some crackers an’ cheese an’ we’ll orl hev a bite.” “I don’t give two whoops ef he does,” Betty was bubbling with suppressed mirth..
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Conrad
“This here flower aint a mornin’-glory, but the leaves is mighty like it, an’ the flowers is jist as purty.” Moses explained. The whole garden had been fenced in as a precaution against the encroachment of predatory animals. Molly, the inquisitive black cow, or Josh and Jake, who had no proper sense of the fitness of things, would have liked nothing better than to sample Mrs. Wopp’s prize turnips and scanty crop of Indian corn, and to trample into the soft earth whatever did not suit their dainty palates. As that energetic lady bustled about the kitchen the same evening setting the bread, her voice rose in a series of trills and other embellishments as she sang “Where is my wanderin’ boy to-night?” “Now ef you would jist play ‘Home Sweet Home’ with variations, my dear, we’ll arterwards hev a game of crokinole. Crokinole is sich an amusin’ game.”.
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