"On his head, you mean," said Willie.
"Yes, Master Willie, or on the snow," said True; "any way you've a mind to have it."
"And I know what you did, Uncle True, just as well as if I'd seen you," said Willie; "you set your ladder and lantern right down, and helped him to pick 'em all up—that's just what you'd be sure to do for anybody."
"This feller, Willie, didn't wait for me to get into trouble; he made return right off. When they were all set right, he bowed and scraped, and touched his hat to me, as if I'd been the biggest gentleman in the land; talkin,' too, he was, all the time, though I couldn't make out a word of his lingo; and then he insisted on my takin' one o' the figurs. I wasn't agoin' to take it, for I didn't want it; but I happened to think little Gerty might like it."
"Oh, I shall like it!" said Gerty. "I shall like it better than—no, not better, but almost as well as my kitten; not quite as well, because that was alive, and this isn't; but almost. Oh, an't he a cunning boy?"
True, finding that Gerty was wholly taken up with the image, walked away and began to get the tea, leaving the two children to entertain each other.
"You must take care and not break it, Gerty," said Willie. "We had a Samuel once, just like it, in the shop; and I dropped it out of my hand on to the counter, and broke it into a million pieces."
"What did you call it?" asked Gerty.
"A Samuel; they're all Samuels."
"What are Sammles?" inquired Gerty.