of the store to take care of some more stuff, and Uncle Rob was holding up a cut glass carafe, when some one darted into the store and rushed up to us, holding out a bottle; then suddenly he noticed Uncle Rob's face, gave one look around and said,
"Well, I'll—!" and dashed out again.
"What does that man want?" called Dad.
"Parker's floor-polish and a pint of linseed oil," said Uncle Rob, cheerfully.
"Why don't you tell him we don't keep floor-polish?'"
"I did," said Uncle Rob; and just then the man loomed up in the door-way again, halted, gave one look around; and then suddenly the air got blue, and he dashed off down the street.
Dad went to the door and looked after him. "I presume he thought this was a drug store," he said.
