"Yes, indeed,—'Lipton Teas,'—I got so tired of that. And these,—cocoa or chocolate. You know Holland is full of manufactories of it."
"And isn't it good?" cried Polly, smacking her lips, as she had feasted on it since their arrival in Holland, Grandpapa considering it especially good and pure.
"I should say so," echoed Jasper, smacking his lips, too.
"Dr. Fisher—" The parson turned to address his neighbour, but there was no little doctor.
"Oh, he is off long ago," said his wife, "to his beloved hospital. What is it, Samuel?"
"I was only going to remark that I don't believe I ever saw so many people together before. Just look!" he pointed down to the Boulevard and off to the sands along the beach.
"It is a swarm, isn't it?" said his wife. "Well, we must go, for Mr.
King is going down to the Boulevard."
Polly and Jasper, running in and out of the fascinating shops by the Concert terrace, had minds divided by the desire to stay on the sands, and to explore further the tempting interiors. "We must get something for the boys," she declared, jingling her little silver purse; "just let us go in this one now, then we'll run after Grandpapa; he's going down on the sands."
"He's going to sit with Phronsie in some of those big sunbonnets of yours, Polly," said Jasper. "There they are," pointing to them. "Well, we'll go in this shop. I want to get a pair of those wooden shoes for Joel." And they hurried in.
"Oh, how fine!" exclaimed Polly. "Well, I saw a carved bear I think Davie would like, and—" the rest was lost in the confusing array of tempting things spread out for their choice by deft shopkeepers.