"It's all right, Candace," he reported, in great satisfaction.
"Sure, honey?" she asked doubtfully.
"Yes, yes," declared Joel quickly, prancing up in front of her. "I like you, Candace; you're just as nice as can be."
"Den gimme your hands!"—she laid the rag dolls carefully on the grass, and put out both of her black ones—"and hoist me up, honey, dat's a good chile."
So Joel stuck out his brown hands, and Candace laying hold of them, he tugged, very red in the face, till finally she set her ample gaiters on the ground and stood straight.
Up rushed Van.
"They're complaining at the post office," he squealed. "You've got to give me your bag. Folks can't get their letters. Give me the bag." He thrust out both hands.
Joel turned on him in a fury,
"You aren't going to have my bag," he screamed.
"I am, too; you're so slow, and don't give out the letters," said Van, delighted to find some chance to get the best of Joel, and quite important to be sent with a message to such an effect.