"Early the nex' mornin' he started out agin, the doctor pointin' him
on the way. He didn't git into the city till 'long 'bout four
o'clock, an' he sez he never was so mixed in all his life. All my
childern was green about town; it made ever' one of 'em sick when
they first rode on the street-cars, an' Europena was skeered to
death of the newsboys, 'cause she thought they called 'Babies,'
'stid of 'Papers.' Jim kep' right on the main road, like he was tole
to, but things kep' a-happenin' 'round him so fast, he said he
couldn't do no more 'n jes' keep out the way. All of a suddint a
ice-wagon come rattlin' up behin' him. It was runnin' off, an' 'fore
he knowed it a man hit it in the head an' veered it 'round towards
him; Jim said his hoss turned a clean somerset, an' he was th'owed
up in the air, an'--"

"Ma!" called a shrill voice from the Wiggses' porch, "Australia's
in the rain-barrel!"

Mrs. Wiggs looked exasperated. "I never was havin' a good time in my
life that one of my childern didn't git in that rain-barrel!"

"Well, go on an' finish," said Miss Hazy, to whom the story had lost
nothing by repetition.

"Ther' ain't much more," said Mrs. Wiggs, picking up her bucket.
"Our hoss had two legs an' his neck broke, but Jim never had a
scratch. A policeman took him to No. 6 Injun House, an' Pete Jenkins
jes' treated him like he'd been his own son. I was done cured then
an' there fer my feelin' aginst Pete."

"Ma!" again came the warning cry across the yard.

"All right, I'm comin'! Good-by, Miss Hazy; you have a eye to Cuby
till we git our shed ready. He ain't as sperited as he looks."

And, with a cordial hand-shake, Mrs. Wiggs went cheerfully away to
administer chastisement to her erring offspring.

CHAPTER VI

A THEATER PARTY

"The play, the play's the thing!"

BILLY'S foreign policy proved most satisfactory, and after the
annexation of Cuba many additional dimes found their way into the
tin box on top of the wardrobe. But it took them all, besides Mrs.
Wiggs's earnings, to keep the family from the awful calamity of
"pulling agin a debt."

One cold December day Billy came in and found his mother leaning
wearily on the table. Her face brightened as he entered, but he
caught the tired look in her eyes.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"Ain't nothin' the matter, Billy," she said, trying to speak
cheerfully; "I'm jes' wore out, that's all. It'll be with me like
it was with Uncle Ned's ole ox,