“And is that all?”
“That is all.”
“And how did you get here?”
“I’ve told enough for once.”
“I’ll hear the rest another time,” said Carl, as he grasped the purse, and ran off towards home; for it was getting to be high noon, and his mother had called to him that dinner was ready.
“Mother,” said Carl, “I’ve heard the stories of my purse, and of my red cent, and of my three apples, and they’re splendid!”
“What a child!” said Mrs. Krinken. “Are the stories not done yet?”
“No,” said Carl; “and I don’t know which to hear next. There’s the boat, and the pine-cone, and the shoes, and the book, and the old stocking;—all of them;—and I don’t know which to have first. Which would you, mother?”