“Yes—’tain’t every little master as says such pretty words to us brown folks.”
“Oh, I love you all,” said Ralph.
“Now, see,” said the man, “that’s very pretty talk, very pretty, indeed; and how would little master like a basket for his very own to hold things—marbles and knives—”
“Oh—and matches!” said Ralph, intensely excited all in a minute.
“Yes, and matches.”
“And pocket-hankershers,” said Ralph.
“To be sure! How would little master like such a basket with a lid to it, now, and a little handle?”
“Oh—it would be lovely!” said Ralph.
“There’s my good wife ’as got one, not like these,”—he kicked his own baskets with a look of contempt—“but a pretty one, to home. You come along ’ome with me, and I’ll give you one.”
“How far off is your house?” asked Ralph, in great excitement.