“When the room was in due state of nicety, Sue brought out and placed the two plates, the salt-cellar, with a little wooden spoon in it, the tumblers of blown glass, a pitcher of water, and the spoons. She had done then all she could, and she turned to watch her porridge and the front door both at once; for she did not forget to keep the porridge from burning, while her eye was upon the big brown door at every other minute.
“The porridge had been ready some time before the door at last opened, and in came Roswald bearing a large market-basket on his arm.
“‘It is astonishing,’ said he, as he set it down, ’what a heavy thing Indian meal is!’
“‘Why Roswald!’ said Sue;—‘did you get all that with two cents?’
“‘No,’ said Roswald; ‘the basket I borrowed. It is my mother’s.’
“‘But have you got it full?’ said Sue.
“‘Pretty full,’ said Roswald, complacently.
“‘I never thought two cents would buy so much!’ said Sue.
“‘Didn’t you?’ said Roswald. ‘Ah, you’re not much of a market-woman yet, Sue. My arm is tired.’