The next morning Ann Grippen appeared with her face and hands tolerably clean, and wearing a dress which by a liberal construction could be called decent. She brought a dirty, rusty old tray, which was the best she could obtain; yet in spite of all these disadvantages, the little candy merchant looked upon it as a hopeful case.
"Now, Ann, you must be very civil to everybody you meet," said Katy, as she covered the rusty tray with a sheet of clean white paper.
"I hope I know how to behave myself," replied Ann, rather crustily.
"I dare say you do;" and she might have hinted that there was some difference between knowing how to do a thing and doing it. "I was only going to tell you how to sell candy. If you don't want me to tell you, I won't."
"I should like to have you tell me, but I guess I know how to behave."
"You must be very civil to everybody, even when they don't speak very pleasant to you."
"I don't know about that," replied Ann, doubtfully, for it was contrary to the Grippen philosophy to be very civil to any one, much less to those who were not civil to them.
"When any one buys any candy of you, you must always say, 'Thank you'; and then the next time you meet the person he will buy again."
"How much you going to give me for selling?" demanded Ann, abruptly cutting short the instructions.
"Mother thinks you ought to have four cents a dozen."