“Oh, no, I won’t. I only said ’twas something to eat. But say, Aunt Alice, how do bananas grow?” [said] Toddie, with brightening eyes and a confident shake of his curly head.
“And I know,” said Mr. Burton, lifting Toddie suddenly from his knee, “that either a certain little boy is breaking to pieces and spilling badly, or something else is. What’ this?” he continued, noticing a very wet spot on Toddie’s apron, just under which his pocket was. “And” (here he opened Toddie’ pocket and looked into it) “what is that vile muss in your pocket?”
Toddie’s eyes opened in wonder, and then his countenance fell.
“’Twash only a little bunch,” said he, “an’ I was goin’ to eat it on de way home, but I forgotted it!”
“They’re white grapes, my dear,” said Mr. Burton. “The boys have been robbing somebody’s hothouse; Tom has no grapes in his. Where did you get these, boys?”
“Sh—h—h!” whispered Toddie, impressively. “Nobody musht never tell secretsh.”
“Where did you get those grapes?” demanded Mrs. Burton, hastening to the examination of the dripping dress.
Toddie burst into tears.
“I should think you would cry!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton; “after stealing people’ fruit.”
“Isn’t cryin’ ’bout dat,” sobbed Toddie. “I’ze cryin’ ’caush youze a-spoilin’ my s’prise for your bifeday ev’ry minute you’ a-talkin’!”