“They are very good friends of yours,” agreed his father.
“You could not have nicer playmates,” said Mrs. Pinkney with satisfaction. “What do you want to give Tess and Dot?”
“I don’t know yet,” answered Sammy thoughtfully. “I want it to be something they’ll remember me by after I get so big that I won’t want to play with girls any more.”
“Why, Sammy!” exclaimed his mother, “I hope that day will never come.”
“Huh!” growled her young son. “It’s bad for boys to play with girls all the time. Makes ’em sissies.”
Mrs. Pinkney was troubled; but her husband laughed loudly.
“Let me pick out something sweet for the little girls, Sammy,” said his mother, with a sigh.
“What do you mean, Mom? Candy?” asked Sammy suspiciously. “They always have candy.”
“No, no. I mean something pretty—for them to wear or look at.”
“Huh!” was the doubtful response. “They don’t need any clothes. Do you mean pictures? For they’ve got a lot of them. Their playroom walls are covered with ’em. Pictures printed on the wall-paper. Don’t see much good in that myself.”