Then these two rival butchers began each to dilate on his superiority over all other butchers that ever had been or ever would be at Long Beach, and each claimed the honor of having supplied the first families there since the settlement of the place.
Marjorie, alive to the fun of the thing, tried to make a decision. Finally she said: “I will order meat from one of you to-day, and the other to-morrow, and whichever sends me the best meats I will continue to patronize. And I will try first the one whose card is decorated with this very beautiful cow’s head. That’s you, Mr. Parkins. But I can’t order now, for I’m too busy. Come around again in about an hour. And you, Mr. Merton & Finch, may come to-morrow morning for your order.”
“Yes, mum,” said the two men, and, gallantly lifting their caps, they went away.
The cards of the other men announced them to be fish and vegetable merchants, bakers and milkmen, and one, being card-less, declared himself the coal and wood agent.
“We may as well order that at once,” said Marjorie, reflectively. “Please send us a barrel of kindling-wood and a—Girls, how much coal ought we to have for two weeks?”
“A ton, I should think,” said Marguerite, with an air of superior wisdom that made her look like the canary who wanted to be an owl.
“Crazy Daisy!” said Betty. “We couldn’t begin to use a ton, nor a half, nor a quarter. Why, we only use twenty tons for a whole year at home, radiators and all.”
“If six Millers in one year burn twenty tons, how much is necessary to supply one Miller and seven other insects that they may have coal to burn?”
“I’ll be Stoker,” said Hester Laverack. “The only thing I’m a real success at is making a fire and keeping it going. And I think we’ll need a barrel of coal.”
“A barrel! Just the thing!” cried Betty. “That’s lots better than a fraction of a ton; and there are so few fractions of a ton to choose from.”