excuse for pausing in his
work, "Here! Git busy mit de shears! Ofer by de vall iss plenty
schnippin'."

Henry tried flattery. "I like to hear y' talk," he confessed.

"Ve-e-e-ell,--" Ikey was touched by this appreciation of his
philosophizing.

"And I'm kinda tired."

Now Ikey's virtuous wrath burst forth. He fixed the tall boy with a
scornful eye. "Oh, you kicker!" he cried. "You talk tired--und you do
like you please! Und you say Momsey so much as you vant to! Momsey!
Momsey! Momsey! Momsey!" Each time the lawn mower squeaked and
rattled its emphasis. "Und de olt lady, she iss gone!"

All the sparrows watching the laboring trio from safe vantage points
now rose with a soft whirr of wings and a quick chorus of twitters as
Farvel opened the door from the Church and came out. A long black gown
hung to his feet, but this only served to accentuate the paleness of
his newly-shaven cheeks. "Ah, fine!" he greeted kindly; "the yard is
beginning to look first-class." Then as the bearer of the telephone
message now projected himself once more between the curtains of the
drawing-room, this time to proffer a package, "Not for me, is it, my
boy?--Get it, Ikey, please." He sat down wearily.

Ikey moved to obey, squinting back over a shoulder at the clergyman in
some concern. But the package in hand, he puzzled over that instead as
he came back. "It says on it 'Mr. Farvel,'" he declared. "Ain't it
so?"

"Open it, old chap," bade Farvel, without looking up.

Ikey needed no urging; and, his companions, once again welcoming an
interruption, gathered to watch. Off came a paper wrapping, disclosing
a box. Out came the cover of the box, disclosing--in a gorgeous
confection of silk, lace, and tulle, with flowers in her flaxen hair,
and blue eyes that were alternately opening and shutting with almost
human effect as Ikey moved the box--a large and remarkably handsome
lady doll.

"_Oy, ich chalesh!_" cried Ikey, thrown back upon his Yiddish in the
amazement of discovery.

Farvel sprang up, manifestly embarrassed, reached for the box, and put
it out of sight behind him as he sat again. "Oh!--Oh, that's all
right," he stammered. "It's for Barbara."

"Bar-bar-a?" drawled the boy. Then following a pause, during which the
trio exchanged glances, "A little girl, she comes here?"

"Yes, Ikey; yes.--Have you boys dusted the drawing-room? You know
Dora's not here today."

"No, sir." Peter and Henry backed