He had found an old magic lantern in the attic and that was enough.
The only stock now on hand was what might be called the permanent
stock (if any stock could be called permanent where Pee-Wee was).
No longer did the fresh, greasy doughnut and the cooling lemonade
grace the forlorn little counter.
"No, I won't!" Pepsy said, tossing those red braids. "I won't eat
the things because we started here and I love them, so there!"
"If you love them I should think you'd want to eat them," said
Pee-Wee. "That shows how much you know about logic."
"I don't care, I'm just going to stay here and if you promise to
wait we'll get lots and lots of money," she said. "You promised me
you'd wait," she added wistfully, "you crossed your heart. Won't you
please wait till--till--five days--may-be? Won't you, please? Maybe that
will be a good turn, maybe?"
He did not refuse. Instead he helped himself to some gumdrops out
of a glass jar, and appeared to be content. But Pepsy knew better than
to trust the fickle heart of man and that night she played the poor
little card that she had been holding.
After Uncle Eb and Aunt Jamsiah had gone to bed and while the curly
head of Scout Harris was reposing in sweet oblivion upon his pillow,
Pepsy crept cautiously down the squeaky, boxed-in stairs and paused,
in suspense, in the kitchen.
Pages:
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106