“Yes, I know you are,” admitted Sue. “I said you sounded just like Mr. Gordon when mother goes in and he says what will it be to-day, Mrs. Brown. You sounded just like him, and—”
“Well, then, you must call me Mr. Gordon!” insisted Bunny. “Now start over again.”
“Oh, all right, Bun—I mean Mr. Gordon!” and Sue quickly corrected herself. “Wait a minute.”
She picked up her doll from the grass and, imitating as nearly as she could the manner of a grown woman, walked out of the store. Of course the store was out of doors, in the front yard of the Brown home, under the trees. But to Bunny the store was very real, indeed. Bunny could “pretend” much harder than could Sue, because, possibly, he was a year older.
Sue—or Mrs. Anderson—having gone out, turned about to come in again. Bunny was once more behind the counter, looking at the clam shells, the piles of pebbles, and the sand, at his wrapping paper and twine and at the swaying shingle on a box—his scales.
“Good morning, Mrs. Anderson, what will it be to-day?” again asked the little boy storekeeper as he bowed to his sister.
“Oh, good morning, Mr. Gordon,” replied Sue, and she did not even smile as she gave her brother the pretend name. This showed that Sue was now playing the game in real earnest. “Have you any sugar this morning, Mr. Gordon?”
“Yes, Mrs. Anderson, I have some nice fresh sugar that just came in,” Bunny answered, acting so much like Mr. Gordon, the real grocer, that Sue nearly smiled at him. But she remembered just in time and her face grew serious.
“Do you wish white sugar or brown, Mrs. Anderson?” asked Bunny. I can call him that without getting into trouble, you know.
“I’ll have a pound of white sugar, and two pounds of brown,” answered Sue, or Mrs. Anderson.