“How do you know I don’t want it?”
“‘Cause it’s doing nothing, standing up in the corner.”
“O what eyes! Yes, you may have it.”
Three minutes went.
“Aunty, couldn’t I have the broom-handle out in the entry? Some of the boys knew you wouldn’t let me, but I said you would. I knew you would let a feller take it,” said the ingenious Charlie.
“For pity’s sake, Charles Pitt Macomber, what next?”
This was Charlie’s real name and used for greater impressiveness.
“That broom-handle is what I fasten the back window with, and if any bugglars get in tonight, I must blame you.”
However, Charlie carried his point. In a few minutes he appeared again, and pointed at his shoulder.
“Aunty, see here!”