ythe crossed his _t_ with so
violent an energy that the pen sputtered and made two blots.

That Angel Boy

"I am so glad you consented to stay over until Monday, auntie, for now
you can hear our famous boy choir," Ethel had said at the breakfast
table that Sunday morning.

"Humph! I've heard of 'em," Ann Wetherby had returned crisply, "but I
never took much stock in 'em. A choir--made o' boys--just as if music
could come from yellin', hootin' boys!"

An hour later at St. Mark's, the softly swelling music of the organ was
sending curious little thrills tingling to Miss Wetherby's finger tips.
The voluntary had become a mere whisper when she noticed that the great
doors near her were swinging outward. The music ceased, and there was
a moment's breathless hush--then faintly in the distance sounded the
first sweet notes of the processional.

Ethel stirred slightly and threw a meaning glance at her aunt. The
woman met the look unflinchingly.

"Them ain't no boys!" she whispered tartly.

Nearer and nearer swelled the chorus until the leaders reached the open
doors. Miss Wetherby gave one look at the white-robed singers, then
she reached over and clutched Ethel's fingers.

"They be!--and in their nighties, too!" she added in a horrified
whisper.

One of the boys had a solo in the anthem that morning, and as the
clear, pure soprano rose higher and higher, Miss Wetherby gazed in
undisguised awe at the young singer. She noted the soulful eyes
uplifted devoutly, and the broad forehead framed in clustering brown
curls. To Miss Wetherby it was the face of an angel; and as the
glorious voice rose and swelled and died away in exquisite melody, two
big tears rolled down her cheeks and splashed on the shining, black
silk gown.

At dinner that day Miss Wetherby learned that the soloist was "Bobby
Sawyer." She also learned that he was one of Ethel's "fresh-air"
mission children, and that, as yet, there was no place for him to go
for a vacation.

"That angel child with the heavenly voice--and no one to take him in?"
Miss Wetherby bethought herself of her own airy rooms and flowering
meadows, and snapped her lips together with sudden determination.

"I'll take him!" she announced tersely, and went home the next day to
prepare for her expected guest.

Early in the morning of the first Monday in July, Miss Wetherby added
the finishing touches to the dainty white bedroom upstairs.

"Dear little soul--I hope he'