“Goodness, are there different kinds?” she asked in a pretty dismay.
“Yes’m, we have four or five kinds and they sell all the way from seventy-five cents to six dollars. I guess, though, you want a pair of half-clamp at about three dollars. Like these.” Tom opened the case and laid a pair of skates on the counter alongside. The lady looked at them doubtfully, held one up, and then thoughtfully ran it along the counter, shaking her head.
“I think I’ll have to leave it to you,” she said, “for I know very little about skates, especially boys’ skates. You see, I want them for my boy. They were to be a Christmas present, but he’s been ill at home for two weeks now and the doctor has promised him he can get out of the house in a few days and he’s very eager to go skating. Of course he can’t, just right away, because he hurt his shoulder rather badly playing football and I suppose skating wouldn’t be good for it. But it seemed too bad to make him wait nearly a month for skates when the skating has already begun. Don’t you think so?”
“Yes’m,” said Tom heartily.
“That’s what I thought. So his father and I decided he should have the skates now. I dare say there’ll be plenty of other things he will want by Christmas,” she added smilingly. “Oh, I almost forgot. He wanted hockey skates. Are these hockey skates?”
“No’m; at least, they ain’t—aren’t called hockey skates. We have regular hockey skates here; two kinds. They cost more, though. These are five dollars and a quarter and these are six.”
“But they’re quite different, aren’t they?” she said perplexedly.
“Yes’m. These they call tubular.”
“Which are the best?”
“I don’t know, ma’am. I never played hockey.”