Suddenly the organ man stopped the tune, and twitched a chain that rattled on the cobble-stones. Up ran a monkey, and as the man slung the organ on his back, the monkey followed to perch himself there, pull off his cap and bow to a baker’s boy and a small girl with a paper bag of groceries, both hanging on his every movement with wide open mouth and eyes.
Davie saw all this, as he plunged over to the small-paned window, when the tune stopped, and peered out between the rows of shoes and slippers that were strung across it.
“He’s going!” he gave a sharp little cry. Hearing this, and seeing his face, little Mr. Beebe stopped his work nearly as suddenly as the tune. “There now, I’ll put on your shoe. ’Tain’t done as good as I want to, you tell your Ma, an’ ef you come over to-morrow, I’ll finish th’ job up good an’ splendid.” He was saying all this as he tied the shoe on Davie’s small foot. “An’ don’t you worry a mite.”
Davie, only waiting till the string was tied, shot out and over the big flat door-stone to the cobble-stones of the narrow street.
CHAPTER XXIX
THE STORY IN THE SHOE-SHOP
“MY! How he acts!” exclaimed Mrs. Goodsell, nervously drawing her shawl-ends closer over her lap. “Who is that boy, anyway?”
“Why, that’s David Pepper,” said the little shoemaker.
“David who?”
Mr. Beebe was craning his short neck to see through the small-paned window what progress David was making over the cobble-stones, and he didn’t pay much attention to the big woman sitting on the bench. So she got clumsily up to her feet and came over to him.
“Who’d you say that boy was?” she demanded.