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“It’s my doin’s, Mar,” said Betty, “I made it orl up outer my head.” At this mendacious statement Mrs. Wopp turned on her offspring a withering glance. Mrs. Snoop had been furious at this calumniation of her lamented husband. But, after learning that the sailor had depicted Mr. Snoop very accurately as to appearance and disposition, she had begun to doubt. “When she heard how Mr. Snoop let those heathen girls run after him an’ wait on him, Mrs. Mifsud,” recounted Mrs. Bliggins, “even lightin’ his pipe for him an’ puttin’ his hat on his head, she began to see things clear, an’ mark my words, she quit mournin’. She couldn’t do anything to Augustus, of course, but she sold her crape clothes and got some new bright ones, mostly red an’ yellow, just to show people how she felt. She made kindlin’ of the crayon picture of Augustus she had bought from a travellin’ agent. She said it was a cryin’ shame that Augustus Snoop, who had been brought up on two catechisms, the Mother’s an’ Shorter, afterwards joinin’ the Holy Rollers, should have taken up with those south sea trollops.”.
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While Betty had been busy in the garden her pet turkey, Job, who depended on his little mistress to feed him, became very hungry. Job suffered under great disadvantages. His general one-sided condition, caused by his partial blindness, rendered him incapable of picking up the various dainties on which his brethren fattened. It must be confessed that the fondest and most partial vision could not overlook Job’s undoubted scrawniness. Indeed, had he not received individual attention from the deeply sympathetic Betty, there is every reason to believe that his career would have been shortened by that inexorable law which, in those forms of life termed the lower, decrees the extinction of the weak. “Shade of Beelzebub! Where did you spring from?” shouted the astonished man. The pianist took a long look at Nell who had been visibly affected by his playing. Misgivings that date back to Eden were leaping into life in his breast. He had been in love more times than he could count, but here was the girl after all. He began a Scherzo of his own composition. Youth gathering flowers at the open mouth of a volcano. The melody was born to live forever. He was a genius. Now Nell knew it and her soul worshipped genius. Howard Eliot was far from her thoughts as she listened to the enchanting chain of melodies that poured forth. Several others were summoned and returned with remarkable reports. At last two high-pitched little voices called in concert down the[160] stair: “The Royal Seeress will rend the veil of futurity for William Bennett.”.
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