“You took them to ride—” said Polly; “oh, Mr. Beggs, you are so very good!”
“You took us to ride,” said Joel and Davie together. “And can I go again?” begged Joel, racing up to clutch his arm.
“Oh, Joel, for shame!” cried Polly, her cheeks very rosy.
But Mr. Beggs only laughed—“Yes, sir—ee—I ain’t comin’ this way this summer agin, but sometime ye may. Well, thank ye all for pickin’ up them pieces.”
“I picked up, too,” announced Phronsie, who, seeing all the others around Mr. Beggs, concluded not to make any more cheeses. So she got up, and spatted her hands together to get off the dirt, and made her way over to the group. “I picked up, too—I did—”
“That’s a fact,” Mr. Beggs bowed his old straw hat solemnly. Then he said, “I wonder, now, if there ain’t somethin’ in my cart that’s just waitin’ to hop out an’ stay with you.” And he threw open the door of the cart to that beautiful shining array.
“Oh—oh!” they all crowded around, Joel getting dreadfully in the way, until Mr. Beggs lifted Phronsie up and set her on his knee. “Now, then, I wonder what you’d like, little gal?”
“Are you going to give it to her to keep?” screamed Joel, looking up into the ragman’s face.
Mr. Beggs bowed again solemnly.
“To keep always?” cried Joel, not believing his ears.