“Do you care for nuts?”
“Like a squirrel.”
“Hamburg grapes. Yes, we shall drink to the Fatherland in those?”
Jo frowned upon that piece of extravagance, and asked why he didn’t buy a frail of dates, a cask of raisins, and a bag of almonds, and be done with it? Whereat Mr. Bhaer confiscated her purse, produced his own, and finished the marketing by buying several pounds of grapes, a pot of rosy daisies, and a pretty jar of honey, to be regarded in the light of a demijohn. Then distorting his pockets with knobby bundles, and giving her the flowers to hold, he put up the old umbrella, and they traveled on again.
“Miss Marsch, I haf a great favor to ask of you,” began the Professor, after a moist promenade of half a block.
“Yes, sir?” and Jo’s heart began to beat so hard she was afraid he would hear it.
“I am bold to say it in spite of the rain, because so short a time remains to me.”
“Yes, sir,” and Jo nearly crushed the small flowerpot with the sudden squeeze she gave it.
“I wish to get a little dress for my Tina, and I am too stupid to go alone. Will you kindly gif me a word of taste and help?”
“Yes, sir,” and Jo felt as calm and cool all of a sudden as if she had stepped into a refrigerator.