“Twelve, miss,” replied the foreman.
“Twelve!” repeated Daisy, lifting her eyebrows. “Does he really? Why, I don’t work two. My governess likes to drive in the Park, and so do I; and we think two hours long enough.”
“Well, I have seen him, pa,” said Daisy a few minutes later, as she and her father were driving away.
“Have you? Humph! then I suppose we may now go to Tiffany’s,” rejoined Mr. Goodman somewhat petulantly.
“And, pa, Flywheel Bob isn’t a bit like any other boy I have ever seen. Why, he is all doubled up; his bony fingers move quick, quick, ever so quick; his eyes keep always staring at his fingers, and”—here an expression of awe shadowed the child’s bright face a moment—“and really, pa, I thought he said ‘hiss-s-s’ when the steam-pipe hissed.”
“Humph!” ejaculated the manufacturer. Then, after a pause: “Well, now, my dear, let us talk about something else—about your earrings; which shall they be, pearls or diamonds?”
“Diamonds, pa, for they shine prettier.” Then clapping her hands: “Oh! wouldn’t it surprise Bob if I gave him a holiday? He is making pennies for me, isn’t he? You said so this morning. Well, pa, I have pennies enough, so Bob shall play awhile; he shall come to Long Branch.”
“My daughter, do not be silly,” said Mr. Goodman.
“Silly! Why, pa, if Rover likes surf-bathing, I’m sure Flywheel Bob’ll like it too.”
“He is too good a boy to idle away his time, my love.”