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I knew you'd like to have it on the parlor table." It was the "Iliad"! Mrs. Wiggs held it at arm's-length and, squinting her eyes, read: "Home of an Island." "That ain't what the man called it," said Lovey Mary. "Oh, it don't matter 'bout the name. It's a beautiful book, jes matches my new tidy. You couldn't 'a' pleased me better."
He is a graduate of Cumberland University and of Harvard, and his wife is the famous creator of Mrs. Wiggs. He has been a prolific poet, having produced many dramas and lyrics, which were collected in two stout volumes in 1915.
For seven days she had done nothing but answer questions and notes, and receive contributions for the Wiggs family. Money had arrived from all over the State, and from every class of society. Eichenstine Bros. sent fifty dollars, and six ragged newsboys came to present thirty cents.
What I want you to do is to get busy with de Wiggs and Westerly and Carson, and the rest of the big gang, and persuade them that there's nothing to be gained by dragging Carpenter out of his hiding-place." What did they want anyway? I argued. They wanted the agitation stopped. Well, we had stopped it, and without any bloodshed.
"Lemme hold the muff!" cried Australia. "No, me me!" shrieked Europena. A center rush ensued, during which the muff was threatened with immediate annihilation. The umpire interfered. "Australia Wiggs, you go set in the corner with yer face to the wall. Europena, come here!" She lifted the wailing little girl to her lap, and looked her sternly in the eye.
Redding held the door open as she passed out. His face was cold, calm, inscrutable; not a quiver of the mouth, not a flutter of the lids, but the light went out of his eyes and hope died in his heart. Mrs. Wiggs stood watching the scene in perplexity. "I dunno what ailed Miss Lucy," she said, apologetically; "hope it wasn't the toothache."
Wiggs turned to the window where Jim was standing. He had taken no part in the singing, and was silent and preoccupied. "Jim," said his mother, trying to look into his face, "you never had on yer overcoat when you come in. You ain't gone an' sold it?" "Yes," said the boy, heavily; "but 't ain't 'nough fer the rent. I got to figger it out some other way." Mrs.
Mary could not see under the bed, but she knew from the day's experience that it was used as a combination store-room and wardrobe. She thought of the home with its bare, clean rooms and its spotless floors. She rose abruptly and went out to the rear of the house, where Tommy was playing with Europena Wiggs.
I'm goin' to git that ole hoss so het up he'll think he's havin' a sunstroke! Seems sorter bad to keep on pestering him when he's so near gone, but this here soup'll feel good when it once gits inside him." When the kettle was empty, the soup was impartially distributed over Mrs. Wiggs and the patient, but a goodly amount had "got inside," and already the horse was losing his rigidity.
Wiggs, thoughtfully. "What do you all think of havin' the picnic right here an' now?" The suggestion was regarded as nothing short of an inspiration. "The only trouble," continued Mrs. Wiggs, "is 'bout the water. Where we goin' to git any to drink? I know one of the firemen, Pete Jenkins; if I could see him I'd ast him to pour us some outen the hose."
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