With this the old gentleman put the eclaire away, locked the drawer, and began to tell Mollie and Whistlebinkie all about the new business he was going into.
have at last found something to do," he said, as he locked the eclaire up in the drawer, "which will provide me in my old age with all the eclaires I need, with possibly one or two left over for my friends."
"Thassnice," whistled Whistlebinkie.
"Yes," said the Unwiseman. "It's very nice, particularly if you are one of my friends, and come in for your share of the left-over eclaires—as, of course, you and Mollie will do. It all grew out of my potery business, too. You see, I didn't find that people who wanted potery ever bought it from a street-corner stand, but from regular potery peddlers, who go around to the newspaper offices and magazines with it, done up in a small hand-bag. So I gave up the stand and made a small snatchel——"
"A small what?" demanded Mollie.
"A small snatchel," repeated the Unwiseman. "A snatchel is a bag with a handle to it."