“Is that a fairy,” asked the little girl.
“I guess so.”
“The difference is,” said her father, “that magicians are men, but fairies are women.”
“I don’t want you to,” said Carrie, “for then you couldn’t talk to me, and play with me. Please stay a boy.”
“I will as long as you want me to,” said Julius, gravely.
Our hero did not feel wholly at his ease, for he was not used to dining in company. In the cheap eating houses which he had been accustomed to patronize, when he was in luck, very little ceremony prevailed. The etiquette in vogue was of the loosest character. If a patron chose to sit with his hat on, or lean his elbows on the table, there was nothing to prevent. But Julius was observing, and carefully observed how Mr. and Mrs. Taylor ate, being resolved to imitate them, and so make no mistakes. He found it difficult, however, to eat with his fork, instead of his knife, as he had always done hitherto, and privately thought it a very singular and foolish custom. His attempts were awkward, and attracted the attention of his new guardians; but they were encouraged{97} by it to believe that he would lay aside other habits springing from his street life, and, after a while, shape his manners wholly to his new position.
When dinner was over, Mr. Taylor said: “Julius, would you like to go out with me and see the farm?”
“Yes, sir,” said our hero, eagerly.
“I thought you were going to play with me,” said little Carrie, disappointed.
“Julius can’t play with you all the time, my dear,” said her mother. “After supper perhaps he will.”