“Yes’m,” said Merrimeg.
Her mother kissed her, and went into the kitchen; and Merrimeg, carrying the wet handkerchiefs, walked over to the apple orchard, thinking about apples, and forgetting all about the rose bushes. She always liked to eat apples just before meals.
In the orchard she stopped under a tree and reached up towards the lowest branch, and just at that moment she heard the sound of some one crying. It seemed to come from the other side of the tree. She tiptoed around the tree to see who it was.
It was the Rag-Bone Man. He was sitting on the ground, with his back against the tree, and his sack beside him, and he was crying to himself pretty loud, and sniffling and wiping away the tears with the back of his hand.
Merrimeg was so frightened that she could not move.
“GIMME A HANDKERCHIEF QUICK,” SAID THE RAG-BONE MAN
“Gimme a handkerchief, quick,” said the Rag-Bone Man, and he snatched the handkerchiefs out of her hand and put one of them to his nose.
“Oh!” he said, and threw the handkerchiefs down. “They’re wet! They won’t do! What good is a wet handkerchief? Haven’t you got a dry one?”
“No, sir,” said Merrimeg, in a shaky little voice.