“I’d rather have one of the sugar doughnuts, please,” said Elyot, now that his legs began to feel better, finding that he was very hungry too.
Old Mr. Beebe laughed till his sides shook and his spectacles tumbled off, and Mrs. Beebe laughed too, and Elyot began to laugh, for he was so comforted with it all, and he knew the doughnuts were coming; and Barby laughed too, and it was so very jolly, that no one heard a customer come in, until he said rather gruffly, “Is my boot half-soled, Mr. Beebe?”
“Oh, bless you, yes!” said Mr. Beebe, getting up and hobbling over to the other side of the room, and he lifted a curtain that concealed a shelf where the repaired articles were kept; “yes, I had that done yist’day, Mr. Coombs,” he said, bringing it out.
“You come along with me,” whispered old Mrs. Beebe to Elyot, “an’ we’ll git the doughnuts. Lucky I made a big lot yist’day; I must ’a’ known you were comin’;” and she laughed again.
“And bring the pink sticks,” cried Barby after them. Then she leaned back on the old chintz pillow, and gazed entranced at the beautiful rows and rows of shoes dangling from strings across the room, and strung across the little window. And great green things, that afterward old Mr. Beebe showed her were boxes that contained shoes and rubbers; each had one of the articles hanging to it. And there, on the top shelf of all, was a long row of big rubber boots—oh, and it smelt so very lovely! Barby lay quite still, and sniffed and sniffed in delight. And even when a long pink cinnamon stick was brought and put into her chubby little hand, she held it loosely and still gazed on.
“It’s a pink stick,” shouted Elyot at her, his mouth full, and taking his face out from behind a big doughnut.
“Isn’t it beautiful!” hummed Barby in delight. “An’ oh! how do you do, my dear very own Mrs. Beebe, and pretty well I thank you mostly,” remembering her manners.
“She will say such dreadful things,” broke in Elyot, quite mortified, notwithstanding his satisfaction; “but you must excuse her, dear Mrs. Beebe, ’cause she’s very little, you know.”
“You blessed dear!” cried old Mrs. Beebe, quite overcome with admiration, and covering the little round face with kisses till her cap-border trembled.
“And I shall say just the very same thing to dear Mr. Beebe,” declared Barby decidedly. Then she began on her pink stick.