"Don' you?" said Candace. "Well, now let's see, honey," but she was very much disappointed, and set down the little green pincushion slowly by the side of her yellow treasure.
Polly glanced up at her over the box-edge. "Candace," she said, "I thought you had some little cushions. You showed them to Phronsie once for her dolls, don't you remember?"
"Oh, dem?" said Candace, wrinkling up her black face. "Why, they were teeny little bits o' tings."
"Well, I've just thought I could sew two or three of them together," cried Polly, the color flying up into her cheeks, "and don't you see, they'd be just as cunning. Oh, do look and see if you have any pink ones."
So Candace, delighted to see that Polly could look so, waddled off to a farther corner, and presently came back with another box, which when opened showed three or four little cushions racing along at play inside.
"Dey ain' pink," said Candace; "I 'member I sold all o' dem."
"O dear me!" exclaimed Polly, dreadfully disappointed, and seizing one end of the box. "Let me look," and suiting the action to the word. "Oh, yes, they are, as sure as anything, Candace; you have some pink ones."
"Shore, I hab," said Candace, quite as delighted.
"At least you have one, anyway," said Polly, her tone dropping some of her elation. "Oh, how I do wish—why, there's another—pick it out, Candace," she concluded in great excitement.
So the second little pink cushion was brought out and set on the counter alongside of the first.