“Will I—will you take a seat?” repeated Miss Salome, as if she were saying a lesson. The Little Blue Overalls climbed into a chair.
Little Blue Overalls climbed into a chair
“Looks pretty bad here, doesn’t it? I guess you forgot to sweep,” he said, assuming social curves in his plump little body. He had the air of having come to stay. Miss Salome’s lips, under orders to tighten, found themselves unexpectedly relaxing into a smile. The Little Blue Overalls was amusing.
“We’ve got a sofy, an’ a rockin’-chair. The sofy’s new, but Chessie’s broke a hole in it.”
“Are there four of you?” Miss Salome asked, abruptly. It was the Little Blue Overalls’ turn to start now.
“Me?—gracious! four o’ me? I guess you’re out o’ your head, aren’t— Oh, you mean child’en! Well, there’s five, ’thout countin’ the spandy new one—she’s too little to count.”
Five—six, with the spandy new one! Miss Salome’s gaze wandered from the piles of books on the floor to the empty packing-boxes, as if trying to find the shortest distance.
“There are only four pairs on the line,” she murmured, weakly,—“stockings,” she added. The Little Blue Overalls nodded comprehendingly.
“I don’t wear ’em summers,—I guess you didn’t notice I was in my bare feet, did you? Well, I am. It’s a savin’. The rest are nothing but girls—I’m all the boy we’ve got. Boys are tough. But I don’t s’pose you ever was one, so you don’t know?” There was an upward inflection to the voice of the Little Blue Overalls. An answer seemed expected.