“Cake.”
“Who’ll ask Aunt Alice for it?” Budge asked. “I guess you’d better; I did, last time we wanted cake. Anyhow, I was getting it without askin’, an’ I promised her I’d always ask after that.”
“Den you ought to begin, right stwaight away,” said Toddie, “elsh mebbe you’d forget. I know what you wantsh! You wants me to ask so’s you can get poor sick baby again while I go.”
“Well,” said Budge, somewhat abashed, “I suppose I’ll have to do it.”
He departed, and returned within two or three minutes with a large piece of fruit cake and a radiant countenance.
“I tell you, Tod, just don’t folks get paid for bein’ good? I was going down to ask Aunt Alice, just as good as could be, and then I couldn’t find her anywhere in the house, so there wasn’t anythin’ to do but go get the cake myself. I don’t believe we’d have got such a big piece, either, if she’d been there; now I know what that big thing on the Sunday-school wall means, ‘Wirtue is its own reward.’”
“Gwacious Peter!” exclaimed Toddie, extending his hand for the cake; “we dassent give him all dat! ’Twould make him dweam dweadful fings.” Here Toddie put the cake to the dog’s mouth, and the animal eagerly bit at it. “Goodnish! I forgot dat dogs could open moufs bigger dan babies. I fink he’s got more now dan’ going to agree wif him. G’way!” continued Toddie, as the dog again snapped at the cake. “We’s got to put dis where he can’t see it, ’less he’ll be cryin’ for it all de time.” And Toddie hastily crowded a large portion of the remainder into his own mouth.
“Oh—h—h!” exclaimed Budge, moving to the rescue of the remainder of the cake. “You ain’t took no medicine, an’ you’ll dream of more cows than you ever saw. Give me it!”
“Um—m—m—ugh—mow—moo-um—guh!” mumbled Toddie with difficulty, as he tightened his grasp on the remainder of the cake.
“Oh, give it to me, Tod!” pleaded Budge. “I’ll eat it, and then I’ll dream ’bout the same cows that you do. Don’t you know how often you wish I’d dream the same things you do, and get mad ’cause I don’t?”