"No'm. He lives to the poor-house. But he's real smart, and we play together. And him and me is going to the show. He always takes care o' me; and my mother thinks a sight of him, and so do I," returned the child, in a burst of confidence.
"Happy little Gusty!" said Rose, to herself.
"Thrice happy Dan," added Uncle Ben, producing the fat pocket-book again, with the evident intention of bestowing a fortune on the small couple.
"Don't spoil the pretty little romance. Don't rob it of its self-sacrifice and simplicity. Let them earn their money. Then they will enjoy it more," cried Milly, holding his hand.
Uncle Ben submitted, and paid Dan his price, without adding a penny.
"The lady wanted to buy my basket. But I didn't sell it, Danny; 'cause you give it as a keepsake," they heard Gusty say, as the children turned away.
"Good for you, Gus; but I'll sell mine." And back came Dan, to dispose of his for the desired quarter. "Now we're fixed complete, and you needn't pick a darned berry. We've got fifty cents for the show, and eight, over for peanuts and candy. Won't we have a good time, though?"
With which joyful remark Dan turned a somersault, and then the little pair vanished in the wood, with shining faces, to revel in visions of the splendors to come.
"Now you have got your elephant, what are you going to do with him?" asked Rose, as they went on again,—she with her pretty basket of fruit, and he with a string of fish wrapped in leaves.
"Come on a bit, and you will see."