“Ho!” says Mr. Atkins.
“Come on,” says Catty to me.
“Where?”
“Look around and think. I wonder if there are any ladders in this town.”
“Fire company’s got some,” says I, and grinned.
We walked up past the waterworks and down to Main Street. Catty didn’t say a word, but kept looking and looking, and sort of tucking away information about our town in his head. We walked from one end of Main Street to the other, and when we got to the town pump that stands at the end of the bridge he stopped and says:
“There hain’t a painter and paperhanger shop in town.”
“No,” says I. “We got two painters that puts up wall-paper sometimes, but they don’t keep any shop. Jest have their stuff in their barns.”
“Who sells paper?”
“Drug-stores.”