“Huh! Dey’d better be,” retorted Mammy, with a warning snort.
In a short time the little booth made a brave showing with its quarter-pound, half-pound, and pound boxes of candy, each tied with pretty ribbon, and each bearing upon its cover the smiling face of its young maker.
When Miss Willing found a chance to take a sly peep at them she turned her head and sneered as she murmured: “Well, of all the conceit. My! Ain’t she just stuck on that face of hers though.”
Scarcely was all arranged, when Mr. Porter appeared upon the scene.
“Just in time to be the first customer,” he cried gayly. “How are you this morning? How-de-do, Auntie? Ah, you see I know your partner now. What all have you got here anyhow?” he continued as he peered into the cases. “Pralines, plain fudge, nut fudge, molasses candy, cream walnuts, caramels, butter-scotch. I say! You’ve been working, little girl, haven’t you?”
“Lak ter wo’k her finges mos’ off,” asserted Mammy.
“They’re none of them missing, though,” laughed Constance, holding up the pretty tapering fingers to prove her words.
“Then give me my candies, quick! I can’t wait another minute. You can almost see my mouth water like my old hunting dog’s.”
“Which kind will you have Mr. Porter?”
“All kinds of course!”