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Exit Betty

Chapter 9 No.9

Word Count: 3257    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

nt looked about helplessly and asked if there was anybody present who could play, although he knew the musical ability of everybody in the village. The minister's wife had already pleaded a cut

ouldn't play fo

her position. However, she was too new at acting a part to always think of these little things, and she played the hymns so well that they gathered about her after the hour was over and openly rejoiced that there was another pianist in town. The leader of Christian Endeavor a

re my father died," she said, re

who had not been able to get out that morning, and she beamed o

could get 'em cheap in the cities sometimes-old-fashioned ones, you know. I heard they have so many old-fashioned ones that th

ob practically. "My! I wisht we had one. Say, Lizzie,

se," sai

need anything awfully. Look at the bathtub! Good-

a new one. P'raps she'll

s like roses. "Mrs. Barlow came to our school to-day and talked to the teacher, and I heard her say she was going away for the winter. She's going to store her goods in the Service Company barn, but she wants to get somebody to

twice to get any sense out of it; but when Bob finally understood he caug

s! I didn't know you had that much nerve, you kid, you! I sure am proud of you!

r the piano. So the piano became a beloved member of the family, and Betty began to give instructions in music, wondering at herself that she knew how, for her own music had been most desultory, and nobody had ever cared whether she practiced or not. She had been allowed to ramble among the great masters for the most part

, and when Betty went to help their mother Bob would sit down and try to imitate what she had done. Fa

e Long, Long Trail," while his mother was getting breakfast. Betty was making the coffee, proud of the fact that she had learned how. But Bob had accomplished only a brief hint of his regular program when the

can rightly do to keep it holy without luggin' in week-day music to make us forget it. You just get t'

po

ng with chopsticks, Ma.

hat's what Sunday was made fer, to kinda tone us up to God, so's we won't get so far away in the week that we won't be any kind of ready for hea

she knew. Perhaps some time she would know the minister's wife well enough to ask. She would have liked to ask Ma more about it, but somehow felt shy

itin', nor play ball an' we always tried to have something good for supper fixed the night before. I heard somebody say a long time ago that it says somewhere in the Bible that Sunday was meant to be a sign forever between Go

, and as if God cared. I never thought much about it before. You think

He does. Hadn't you never got onto that? Why,

He was looking out for me,

ack to see that her bacon didn't bur

uld I ha

just b

etty utterly puzzl

'Cast your burden on the Lord,' an' He said 'Castin' all yer care 'pon Him, fer He careth fer y

ould I?" a

with her knife to keep them from burning. "It won't take you long, an' I'll tend the coffee. Just you tell Him you want Him to take care of you, an' you'll believe what I told yo

r hand on her heart, as if about to do som

leased with me. Suppose I've done something that He

the Saviour of the world? We all do wrong things, an' everybody has sinne

at down in a cha

least I know I'm not. I'm afraid I'd do it a

om the stove and surveyed

on that. You better go talk it out to Him. Just get it off your mind. I'll hold up breakfast a mi

lk to God for the first time in her life. It seemed queer to her, but when she arose and hurried back to her duties she h

f they knew Him. It was all strange and new and wonderful to Betty, and she sat listening and wondering. The old ques

was spoiled and hard to please, and she was daily tried by the necessity of inventing ways of discipline for the poor little neglected girl which yet would not bring down a protest from her even more undisciplined mother. If she had been independent she would not have remained with Mrs. Hatha

been so kind, and were teaching her so many things, that it seemed the best and safest place she could be in. So the days settled down into weeks, and a pleasant life grew

People began to notice her. The church ladies looked after her and remarked on her hair, her complexion, and her graceful carriage, and some shook their heads and said they should

e of the older ones allowed that she was entirely too pretty to be without a history. They took great liberties with their surmises. The only two, the youngest of them all, who might have defended her, had been unconsciously snubbed by her when they tried to be what Bobbie

edly, and his hands were always clammy and limp. He ordinarily sat tilted back against the wall to the right of the engine, sucking an old clay pipe. He had a way of often turning the conversation to imply some deep mystery known only to himself

was Abi

mfortably between his teeth and looking around on the group

Dunc Withers. "Reckon he was thirsty. Guess he'll be

y," chuckled the chief. "Wo

e to get it. He won't come

ay the lid's dow

ed Dunc. "Bet I cou

d Abijah Gage walked in, wit

nked up, did yeh?"

ing the chief's broad shoulder with a folded newspaper he carried.

id Dunc, snatching at it as

air of one granting a high favor a

and Bi's tale was set a-going. Bi could talk; t

he paper. Presentl

n't look like that little lollypop over to

over Dunc's shoulder squinting at the pict

ike as two pe

e her sister!"

flinging back to his comfortable chair. "She's got s

ut her hair,"

cunning eyes, and slouched over to th

t, Dunc!" h

ward for information conc

tion in detail of her si

bility of the girl in the paper being a relative of the girl at Carson's, but as Bi did not come forward with information the subject languished. Some one said he had heard the Carson kid call her Lizzie, he thought, but he wasn't sure. Ordinarily Bi would have known the full name,

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