But a moment later he was cheerfully confidential; he had thirty cents
to spend! "Dear, dear," said Dr. Lavendar, "we mustn't do anything
rash. Here, let's look in this window."
Oh, how many windows there were, and all of them full of beautiful
things! Dr. Lavendar was willing to stop at every one; and he joined
in David's game of "mine," with the seriousness that all thoughtful
persons give to this diversion.
"That's mine!" David would cry, pointing to a green china toad
behind the plate glass; and Dr. Lavendar would say gravely, "You may have it, David; you may have it."
"Now it's your turn!" David would instruct him.
"Must I take something in this window?" Dr. Lavendar would plead. And
David always said firmly that he must. "Well, then, that's mine," Dr.
Lavendar would say.
"Why, that's only a teacup! We have thousands of them at our house!"
David boasted. "I should think you would rather have the toad. I'll--
I'll give you the toad, sir?"
"Oh, dear me, no," Dr. Lavendar protested; "I wouldn't rob you for the
world." And so they sauntered on, hand in hand. When they came to a
book-store, Dr. Lavendar apologized for breaking in upon their "game."
"I'm going to play mine, in here," he said.
David was quite content to wait at the door and watch the people, and
the yellow boxes full of windows, drawn by mules with bells jingling
on their harness. Sometimes he looked fearfully back into the shop;
but Dr. Lavendar was still playing "mine," so all was well. At last,
however, he finished his game and came to the door.
"Come along, David; this is the most dangerous place in town!"
David looked at him with interest. "Why did you skip with your eye
when you said that, sir?" he demanded.
At which the clerk who walked beside them laughed loudly, and David
grew very red and angry.
But when Dr. Lavendar said, "David, I've got a bone in my arm; won't
you carry a book for me?" he was consoled, and immediately began to
ask questions. It seemed to Dr. Lavendar that he inquired about
everything in heaven and earth and the waters under the earth, and at
last the old gentleman was obliged, in self-defence, to resort to the
formula which, according to the code of etiquette understood by these
two friends, signified "stop talking."