CHAPTER FIFTH
MAYSIE, firmly grasping her bag of cakes, rushed through the crowded sidewalks and street-crossings, darting in among the carriages and teams with the skill that only a child brought up in a large city possesses. Sometimes she passed under the very nose of a horse, and it seemed as if she must certainly be run over, but she always came out safe and sound. Her brother and sister, with Toby, followed wherever she went, but found it difficult to keep up with her. She was always some distance ahead of them, and paid no attention to their calls to stop for them to catch up with her.
“Stop, can’t you?” called out Johnny, who was leading Toby, and who always picked him up and carried him across the most crowded streets. “Stop and divy up! They ain’t all yours.”
“I’m going to, Johnny,” replied Maysie, still continuing her rapid gait. “Just a few blocks more, and then I’ll stop.”
So away they all went once more, little Toby as eager as the children for the share that had been promised him. They had gradually left behind them the pleasant part of the city where the bake-shop was situated, and had reached a part where the streets and sidewalks were narrower and the houses smaller and closer together. When they came to a place where building was going on, Maysie came to a stop, and seating herself on a low pile of boards, announced her intention of dividing the contents of the paper bag. Johnny seated himself by her side, placing Toby in his lap, and Hannah, the elder sister, took a seat near by.
They were not a quarrelsome family, and seemed to feel perfectly confident that Maysie would do the right thing by them and divide fairly. They edged as closely to the paper bag as they could get, and took long sniffs of the delicious odors wafted toward them.
“The dog has got to have his share, too,” said Johnny, as Maysie had helped them all around and had not included Toby.
“Each of us can give him a piece of ours,” replied Maysie, breaking off a generous piece of hers and handing it to the little dog.