“Oh, DEAR!” said Chimborazo.
“Well,” said Will, “if that’s all you have to say when I offer you marbles, I’ll keep them myself. I suppose you expected me to give you all of them, did you? I never saw such a fellow!” and off he went in a huff.
. . . . . . . .
“Well, Chimborazo,” said the fairy godmother, “what do you think of ‘Oh, dear!’ now?”
Chimborazo looked at her beseechingly, but said nothing.
“Finding that forty-five times was not enough for you yesterday, I thought I would let you have all you wanted to-day, you see,” said the fairy wickedly.
The boy still looked imploringly at her, but did not open his lips.
“Well, well,” she said at last, touching his lips with her wand, “I think that is enough in the way of punishment, though I am sorry you broke the bell-punch. Good-by! I don’t believe you will say ‘Oh, dear!’ any more.”
And he didn’t.