“I'm going,” said Mr. Letts, hastily. “Good-by, Betty; good-by, mother. I sha'n't be long. I'm only going as far as the post-office. And that reminds me. I've been talking so much that I quite forget to tell you that Betty and me were married yesterday morning.”
He nodded pleasantly at the stupefied Mr. Green, and, turning to Mr. Widden, gave him a friendly dig in the ribs with his finger.
“What's mine is Betty's,” he said, in a clear voice, “and what's Betty's is MINE! D'ye understand, step-father?”
He stepped over to Mrs. Green, and putting a strong arm around her raised her to her feet. “And what's mine is mother's,” he concluded, and, helping her across the room, placed her in the best arm-chair.
PRIZE MONEY
The old man stood by the window, gazing at the frozen fields beyond. The sign of the Cauliflower was stiff with snow, and the breath of a pair of waiting horses in a wagon beneath ascended in clouds of steam.