Maida took out of a drawer the pamphlet-tales that Billy had liked so much.
“Are these what you want?” she asked. But before he could answer, she added in a condescending tone, “Do you know how to read, little boy?”
Billy’s face twitched suddenly and his eyes “skrinkled up.” Maida saw with a mischievous delight that he, in his turn, was trying to keep the laughter back.
“Yes, mum,” he said, making his face quite serious again. “My teacher says I’m the best reader in the room.”
He took up the little books and looked them over. “‘The Three Boars’—no,‘Bears,’” he corrected himself. “‘Puss-in-Boats’—no, ‘Boots’; ‘Jack-and-the-Bean-Scalp’—no,‘Stalk’; ‘Jack the Joint-Cooler’—no, ‘Giant-Killer’; ‘Cinderella,’ ‘Bluebird’—no, ‘Bluebeard’; ‘Little Toody-Goo-Shoes’—no, ‘Little Goody-Two-Shoes’; ‘Tom Thumb,’ ‘The Sweeping Beauty,’— ‘The Babes in the Wood.’ I guess I’ll take these ten, mum.”
He felt in all his pockets, one after another. After a long time, he brought out some pennies, “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten,” he counted slowly.
He took the books, turned and left the shop. Maida watched him in astonishment. Was he really going for good?
In a few minutes the little bell tinkled a second time and there stood Billy again.
“Good morning, Petronilla,” he said pleasantly, as if he had not seen her before that morning, “How’s business?”
“Fine!” Maida responded promptly. “I’ve just sold ten fairy books to the funniest little boy you ever saw.”