THE BOOK OF BETTY BARBER.
They all listened. Through the wood the voice could be heard distinctly, “Thirteen-fourteenths is wanted! Thirteen-fourteenths is wanted.”
“It is Repeater,” said the Fraction, “and he is coming this way. I knew he would come, he never stops running.”
“You are wanted at home, Thirteen-fourteenths.”
They could hear the words before they could see the boy.
“I must go,” said Thirteen-fourteenths. “Good-bye.”
“But he isn’t here yet,” said Half-term.
“He won’t stay when he gets here,” said the Fraction, “he never stops. Good-bye. Work hard, all of you. I will work hard, too. I will find the book. But where is the round box I did find?”
“Thirteen-fourteenths!” The voice sounded much nearer.
“Here is the box,” said Minora. “Look at it, Half-term. Do you see what it says outside?”
“One shilling a box,” read Half-term.
“Give it to me,” said the Fraction. “Here he comes.”
But Christmas caught the box as Half-term threw it to the Fraction.
“What is inside, I wonder?” she said, and she took off the lid.
“Christmas, give me the box,” said the Fraction.
Repeater was hastening down the path.
“Thirteen-fourteenths, you are wanted at home,” he called, “there is trouble, trouble, trouble at home.”
“Say 1 am coming,” said the Fraction, “coming at once.”
And the boy took up the new call, and ran past them all through the wood, shouting, “Thirteen-fourteenths is coming, coming at once.”
“My box,” said Thirteen-fourteenths.
But the fairies had recovered their spirits. They began to play a game of catch with the box, Christmas throwing it to Easter, Easter to Summer.
Poor Thirteen-fourteenths ran from one to the other.
