Fifty sent home. ' Why," said Ruth, "you did not read that to us. "'Odd's! bodikins!" cried Jack, rubbing his cheek, "I'm in luck to-day. Wood," replied Jack, calmly. She wanted to live. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe. Perhaps I deceived you about it. "Jack," exclaimed the widow, starting up and drawing back the curtain. At the present moment she was living in a world of her own creation, a carnival of brave men and fair women, characters out of the tales she had so newly read for the first time. . \" She whirled around by instinct, frightening the boy who she had borrowed the pencil from.
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