"Be you the candy man?" cried the child.
"That's what! be you the candy boy? lozenges, tutti-frutti and pepsin chewin' gum, chocolate creams, stick candy—what'll you have, young feller?"
"I want a stick of checkerberry!" said the boy.
"So do I!" cried a little girl in a pink gingham frock, who had run out from the house and climbed on the other gate-post. She was a pretty curly little creature, and the boy was an engaging compound of flaxen hair, freckles and snub nose. Calvin regarded them benevolently, and pulled out a drawer under the seat of the wagon.
"Here you are!" he said, taking out a glass jar full of enchanting red and white sticks.
"Best checkerberry in the State of Maine; cent apiece!" and he held out two sticks.
The children's eyes grew big and tragic. "We ain't got any money!" said the boy, sadly.
"Not any money!" echoed the little girl.
"Then what in time did you ask for it for?" asked Calvin rather irritably.
"I didn't!" said the boy. "I just said I wanted it."