Mr. Bryant was not a stranger in the store, and he walked at once to this part of the room. The clerk knew him, and asked,—
"What can I sell you, sir?"
"I want a book about animals," the gentleman answered; "something that will be useful and interesting for a child of eight years."
The clerk took down a neat box, saying,—
"There is just the thing for you, sir. There are six volumes full of anecdotes of the dog, cat, horse, sheep, etc., besides a natural history of the animals."
"Capital! Let me see," taking out his watch; "yes, I have fifteen minutes, and I'll examine them."
He sat down on a high stool, and the clerk laughed as he saw him sitting there an hour after. Then the gentleman rose in a great hurry, saying, as he paid for the books,—
"I'm afraid your dog stories have made me lose a valuable customer. I quite forgot how the time was passing."
Mrs. Bryant did not forget Charley. She often told her daughter Ida about the little fellow. She also told her of Oscar Russel, though at that time she did not know his name, and how much better it was to be polite like Charley, than rude like Oscar.
"I want to see Tarley," lisped Ida; "I love dood boys."