"I believe it is called gold—a very common metal, indeed."
"Pray, then, what do you use for rings?" asked the Widow, hiding her hands under her apron.
"We usually make them out of our smaller diamonds," replied the little man carelessly. "There are, however, more precious stones. For instance, there is Lapis Malazite, a very fashionable blue gem; and Lapis Corazine, an emerald-green jewel. Blue and green, madam, are our favorite colors."
"How strange!" exclaimed the Widow Pickle. And then she told of the manner in which the hair of her Twins had been permanently colored by some of her husband's Chemical Substances.
"That is very singular," said the little man. "All I can say is that if their hair is the real malazite blue and the correct corazine green, they could have anything they like in the Land of Gee-Whiz; for these are the Royal Hereditary Colors. But, really, I must be going. I rarely ever stay away more than an hour at a time."
As he spoke, he stepped toward the window, but in doing so he gave his mantle a slight twitch to one side. As he did this, he displayed to the curious gaze of the Widow Pickle a strangely-carved Banjo, whose supporting ribbon was swung over his shoulders. The Banjo was of ivory and gold, and the pegs for tightening the strings were of shining gold.
"Stay!" cried the Widow. "I have never seen so beautiful an instrument as that. I am sure you play it well; and as for me, I dote upon the banjo."
"Madam," smiled the little man, "I see your taste is excellent."
