She took a squash. "Did you say cabbage, Wong?"
"Oh yeh." He began at once to lift the tray. Next he hoisted forth the shallow inside basket and reached for a cabbage.
"Ki! yi!" he yelled. "Sumin—ah—got, yu nee mah! Kow long hop ti! Ha! What you call um? Hi! for Injun debbil!" And he lapsed again into awful Chinese exclamation points, and danced a fan-tan dango in a wonderful state of excitement. "Hi! What you call um? Sumin-ah-got, no belong for Wong! Huh!" Nerving himself for the fearful ordeal, he lifted the squirming baby forth and dropped it quickly to the ground. No sooner did the wild little thing find itself released than it scrambled to its feet and ran at the skirts of the elderly lady—the only thing it recognized—and clung there like a prickly burr.
"Mercy!" shrieked the lady. "Mercy! Where— Wong, where did you get this child—this savage child?" she demanded.
"Sumin-ah-got, no sabbee," said the terrified Wong, gathering baskets and mats in a desperate haste. "Plitty click for whole lots um for Injun come for nis one. Wong no takee. No see some nis one for baby befloh. Somebody makee for tlick—you sabbee?—makee velly much tlouble. Kow long hop ti! Yu nee mah!"
"But, Wong, you must take it back! I don't know anything about the trick! I don't wan't the Indians coming here. Mercy!"
Wong, however, had rapidly fixed his pole in its place, and swung his baskets clear of the ground, still jabbering wildly in his native tongue, and trotted away with a double-quick motion.
"Wong! Wong!" called the agitated woman. "I can't throw him away! You must take him back! Wong!" But the vender of vegetables, thoroughly alarmed, had fled.