“‘Said the piggy, “I won’t!”’” Mary Frances misquoted, “and I don’t blame Billy, for we’ve made lots of money this Summer.”
“Yes, I know,” said Eleanor; “from the times I’ve been out with you selling garden truck, you must have quite a fortune by now.”
“Oh, say——” began Billy.
“What?” asked Mary Frances.
“Why, I was just thinking that since Eleanor was always helping us so much, she ought to share in the profits.”
“Wouldn’t that be fine!” Mary Frances hugged her friend in delight.
“No.” Eleanor shook her head. “If you divide among three, you won’t make money nearly as fast.”
“We’ve done so well that we won’t mind going a little more slowly,” said Billy. “Shall we tell what a pile we have in the bank, Mary Frances?”
“Oh, Billy, you know I’m crazy to tell her!”
“Well,” Billy took a book from his pocket, “last Saturday night we had forty-four dollars and fifty-seven cents, and Mrs. Dailey owes us two dollars and nineteen cents.”