“Aunt Stanshy called it an elephant.”
“Well, you might say elephant, the white elephant of Siam—sort of a distant cousin. Why, what do you ask the question for?”
Charlie grinned, but made no reply.
Every thing was made ready for the sale. Aunt Stanshy’s two rooms were the scene of much bustle, and while the boys were at their tables, Miss Barry in a tastily-draped corner was ready for a reasonable sum to serve out refreshments to every applicant.
The Helping-Hand Sale had various attractions. Among them was Charlie’s “maginary.” It was a box covered with white cloth, a piece of workmanship at which Charlie had been secretly tinkering for two days. It was labeled “A Distant Cousin of the White Elephant of Siam. Price to see, three cents, and don’t tell when you’ve seen it.”
This attracted great attention.
“Miss Persnips,” said Charlie to the shopkeeper, who came to patronize the sale, “do you want to see my maginary? Only three cents, and don’t tell.”
“Your menagerie? Yes. What have you got there? Some dreadful animal! I’m afraid to.”
Charlie lifted the cover of the box, and there, fat and sleepy, was—Miss Persnips told the rest.
“Did you ever! That darling, sweet pet I gave you. Quite an idea, really, and here’s another cent.”