Bunny Brown acted so much like Sam Gordon, the real grocer, and even imitated his talk and manners so well, that Sue felt like laughing. But she knew that if she did so her brother would not play any more, so she kept as straight a face as she could and said:
“Have you any fresh eggs, Mr. Gordon?”
“Oh, yes, Mrs. Anderson, some very fresh ones. They were picked just this morning!”
“Oh, Bunny Brown, you don’t pick eggs! They grow in the chicken coop!” giggled Sue. And Bunny, knowing that he had made a mistake, did not find fault this time with Sue for calling him Bunny instead of Mr. Gordon.
“I mean,” corrected the little boy, “that the eggs were laid fresh this morning.”
“Then I’ll take a dozen,” said Sue, getting her face straight again.
Bunny picked up twelve of the larger white pebbles and put these in an old cracker box, of which he had several under the counter.
“Be careful not to break the eggs, Mrs. Anderson,” he said, handing Sue the box. “Is there anything else?”
“I think that’s all,” said Sue gravely, as she had heard her mother say. “How much is it?”
Bunny pretended to be adding up the cost of the pound of white sand-sugar, the two pounds of the brown sand-sugar, and the price of the dozen white-pebble-eggs.