"Yes, dear, I'll be your mother."
Then, forgetting all about the puppy, which fell to the ground with a surprised little yelp, Bobby rushed to the Lady Who Likes Little Boys and threw his arms passionately about her neck as she knelt to receive him. They both squeezed just as hard as they could and the Lady laughed and cried and then laughed again.
Bobby sighed with complete happiness. He had found a birthdays and already that magical thing was bringing him all sorts of presents—puppies and perk-wizits and "glassies" and mothers and perhaps curly-tailed little pigs to buy him an edge-cation. He hugged the Lady again.
"Well, son, you seem to like mothers."
Bobby looked up and saw that the Man with the Pocketful of Quarters had climbed out of the 'mobile and was standing over them.
"Yes'm," replied Bobby and twined his fingers in the soft hair at the back of the Lady's neck.
"And fathers, too?" smiled the lady.
Bobby drew back and looked at her with shining eyes.
"Have I fathers, too?"
"Yes, dear. You will love him because he likes little boys, too."