“Pulled up dirty old markers and hid ’em, and pushed down nice ones we painted.”
René was obviously rather proud of his achievement, and quite puzzled as to the serious manner of his elders.
“Why did you do that?” asked the man, the suggestion of a twinkle appearing in his blue eyes.
“Wanted Jack’s lobster bed to look nice.”
“But those weren’t his; they were mine.”
“Everything’s Jack’s!”
Their neighbor smiled, and held out his hand to Jack.
“My mistake,” he said. “I didn’t know what a grasping partner you had.”
“He means well, but makes trouble sometimes. Take him back to bed; will you, Dissy?”
While Desiré put the little boy in bed again, and tried to impress upon him the seriousness of his mistake, Jack and his neighbor worked amiably side by side.