"About a pint, I guess," said Old Captain. "And for Pete's sake mix 'em up as to sizes so they'll fit all kinds of holes."
This time the clerk giggled outright.
"They're on cards," said she. "Here are three sizes of white pearl buttons—a dozen on each card. Five cents a card."
"Make it three cards of each size," returned the Captain, promptly. "She might lose a few. And not bein' flower seeds, they wouldn't sprout and grow more. Now, what's the damage for all that?"
The Captain's money smelled dreadfully fishy, like all the rest of his belongings; but the good old man didn't know that. He was greatly pleased with himself and with his purchases. But when he reached the open air, he paused on the doorstep to draw a deep breath.
"'Twould a taken less time to bought the riggin' fer a hull boat," said he, mopping his pink countenance. "But I made a rare good job of it."
CHAPTER VI
MOLLIE
When Jeannette, according to her promise, arrived the next afternoon, the impatient Captain, who wished he had said morning, escorted her inside the old box-car. Sammy and Annie were at her heels; but Patsy was having a nap. The rough table was nicely decorated with folded squares of gorgeous calico. The cards of buttons, spools of thread, and glittering thimbles formed a sort of fancy border along the edge. The packets of needles were placed for safety in the exact center of the table.