“Oh, come on!” cried the harum-scarum Bobby. “I won’t hurt the old glass.”
Thus adjured, Laura put on her hat and walked slowly to the front of the store with the magnifying glass in her hand.
“Father,” she said softly, touching his arm, “I want to borrow this for a little while. I will bring it back.”
He nodded. He could not leave his customer then. So Laura walked out of the store and joined her school friend in Market Street. The girls were sophomores in Central High School of the city and they had always lived in adjoining streets, so were very good friends. Bobby was so full of mischief that it was hard to keep her out of trouble; but sometimes the more quiet daughter of the jeweler had a restraining influence over the younger girl.
“Oh, I’ve got the greatest scheme!” gasped Bobby, choked with laughter. “Hurry up before Daddy closes.”
“What have you been doing now?” asked her friend, admonishingly.
“Just dressing one of the store windows—honest to goodness! that’s all I’ve been doing.”
“But why the magnifying glass?”
“That’s it. You’ll see the joke. Hurry,” urged Bobby, pulling Laura along the walk.
They came to Mr. Hargrew’s grocery store and Bobby halted her friend before the first window. It was tastefully arranged with canned goods and package products; but in the center, in a bed of different colored tissue paper, was an ordinary loaf of bread of small size. Above it was a freshly lettered card bearing the legend: