Not a sound came out.
"Ach! I guess that one is damaged," he said. "But I got other ones.
Here! Listen to this!"
The next one blew loud and shrill.
"I want that!" cried Freddie.
"Ten cents!" said the man, holding it out to the little boy.
"What?" cried Billy. "Why, I can buy those whistles for five cents
anywhere in Washington! Ten cents? I guess not!"
"Oh, well, take it for seven cents then," said the man. "What I care if
I die poor. Take it for seven cents!"
"No, sir!" exclaimed Billy firmly. "Five cents is all they cost, and
this is an old one."
"Oh, well. Take it for five then. What I care if you cheats a poor old
man? Such a boy as you are! Take it for five cents!" and he handed the
whistle to Freddie. But before he could take it Nan said, gently:
"I think it would be better for him to have a fresh one from the box.
That is all dusty."
The truth was she did not want Freddie to take a whistle the old man had
blown into.
"Oh, well, I gives you a fresh one," he said, and he took a new and
shining one from the box. Freddie blew it, making a shrill sound.
"What else you want to buy, little childrens?" asked the old man.
Pages:
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178