“Ah!” said the little man, “that is also true of little children, who are rude and sell their good manners. They are like blue roses and have no perfume.”
“Now, Ray,” continued the queer little storekeeper, “who is it that always has a pleasant smile and a kind word for everybody?”
“Who is it that knits nice, warm mittens for a little boy called Ray.”
“Aunt Polly,” was the answer.
“Who is it makes the nicest plum-cake in the world and always gives some to a little boy called Ray.”
“Aunt Polly,” cried the boy.
“Who is it tells such delightful stories and has a heart so big that there is a little corner in it for every child in the wide world?”
“My Aunt Polly,” shouted Ray, jumping to his feet, “and I’m going to tell her how rude I’ve been and how sorry I am for behaving badly to the best auntie in the world.”
He started to run, but the little blue man cried out, “Wait a minute.”