"Very fond of 'em. I'll take a couple of pounds." He designated to the woman in charge the jar Jack had pointed out and when the candy was weighed he handed it to the child.
"But—but——" began Jack in surprise.
"But—but; that's just what you did to me." And again the old gentleman went off into a paroxysm of laughter in which Jack again joined, partly from pleasure at receiving the candy, and partly because the old gentleman's laugh was very contagious.
"I didn't suppose you liked it so well," said Jack when she had regained her gravity. "I didn't think you enjoyed it so much that you would want to pay me for butting you."
The old man's "Ho-ho!" again sounded forth, but he put up a protesting hand. "Here, here, that's enough," he said. "I haven't laughed so much for a month of Sundays. What's your name, kid?"
"Jack Corner."
"Jack Horner? Then you're fond of plums and Christmas pies. You are making fun of me, I'm afraid. Whoever heard of a girl being named Jack Horner. Now if you had said little Miss Muffet or Margery Daw I might have believed you."
"I'd rather be one of those than little Nan Etticoat, for she had a red nose," returned Jack. "But I didn't say Jack Horner. My name is Jacqueline Corner; they call me Jack for short. That's my sister Nan over there."
"Oh, she is Nan Etticoat, then, but I don't see that her nose is red nor her petticoats very short. Tell her to come over here. My name is Nicholas Pinckney."
"I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick," quoted Jack glibly with mischief in her eyes.