THE FRANCES SHIMER QUARTERLY
live with him and he'd just as soon you'd come too. Isn't it grand?" And I held her a little closer to me. She had long since grown tired and I was compelled to carry her.
"Here we are now. Wake up, dear," I told her as we entered the store.
Mr. John seemed somewhat surprised when he found that we had come to stay, but made the best of it by first giving us ice-cream and then candy. Marion was impolite enough to look as if she would like a cup of coffee, but she did not get it. I felt sorry for her, because I don't think it would have hurt her a bit; indeed I know it would not, and it would have done me a great deal of good.
But we were very proud to be introduced as Mr. John's children; we felt already that the confectionery store was ours.
Mother, in some unexplainable way, had found out where we were and decided to let me stay until evening. Marion's mother never worried about her. But long before evening Marion became restless and wanted to go home. Mr. John had no paper dolls and he had no games, not even tiddle-de-winks, and we couldn't eat candy all the time. He was too busy to watch us when we played and it grew tiresome just sitting down without even a cat to tie ribbons on. Altogether it was a horrid place.
I spoke of taking Marion home, but Mr. John urged us strongly to stay that it was truly quite useless to think of going until—Well, until a man whom I liked ever so much—more than I did Mr. John—came in.
"Say," he said (he always called everybody "Say"), "Do you happen to have a stray child here?" I thought it was horrid for him not to ask for Marion too, since she was the one who wanted to go home. I simply decided to take her home with me.
It seemed to me we went home ever so much slower than we came. Marion was dreadfully heavy and she would not walk. Finally we reached the house. Mother looked at us merely, then I spoke for us both, dropping Marion as I ran to get on Mother's lap.
"Oh!" I cried, "You're nicer than Mr. John, or ice cream, candy or cake—or anything else."
Next morning I had to paste Marion's wig on again. It came off when she fell to the floor.
Julia Sword, '10
