“It never was otherwise.”
“Don’t you never get tired?”
“Every parasol is a joy.”
“What do you do when the parasols are gone?”
“They always come back. These are the famous twisted-nose parasols made from the famous pink grass. You will lose them all, all three. Then they will all walk back to me here in this store on main street. I can not sell you something I know you will surely lose. Neither can I ask you to pay, for something you will forget, somewhere sometime, and when you forget it, it will walk back here to me again. Look—look!”
As he said “Look,” the door opened and five pink parasols came waltzing in and waltzed up into the show window.
“They always come back. Everybody forgets. Take your parasols and go. You will forget them and they will come back to me.”
“He looks like he had wishes inside him,” said Eeta Peeca Pie.
“He looks like he had suspicions,” said Meeney Miney.
“He looks like he was all mixed up wishes and suspicions,” said Miney Mo.