It was not an unhappy comparison. Poke was short and plump; Step was tall and slender. There was a like variance between the somewhat jug-like ornament depicted in the catalogue and the graceful vase which had stood on the desk of the Rainbow Mountain House.
“All right; have it your way if you want to,” Step agreed.
Again Poke studied the illustration. “What’s more, this one’s made out of different stuff. It doesn’t look like glass.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
Poke shut the book with a bang of temper. “You didn’t say anything sensible.”
Then Step revolted at this ingratitude. “Look here, Poke, that’s carrying your grouch too far! Wasn’t I trying to help you?”
“Oh, I know you mean well,” Poke groaned.
“And wasn’t I doing you a favor? Don’t you want to be posted? Here’s a whopping big thing you can get for $3.98. That’s worth knowing if they try to come any funny business on you.”
Poke cheered a trifle. “Say, there’s something in that.”
“You bet there is! And when you come down to brass tacks, a vase is a vase.”