Part 2 (2/2)
ENGAGING IN MERCANTILE PURSUITS
A WARNING whistle from the up-going steamboat made the dignified Mr.
Pore step lively. With admonitions to Annie to keep an eye to business and with a limp handshake to Sleepy and me, a peck of a kiss on Annie's white brow, he seized his ancient Gladstone bag and made for the landing. That bag must have been a leftover from the old days in England, and more precious it was in its owner's eyes than the finest new suitcase that money might buy.
All of us were relieved that he was gone. I giggled with joy and Annie smiled at Sleepy and me as she had not done since we arrived.
”All the gang is coming down soon to see you, honey. They would have come with us but we slipped off,” said I, going behind the counter to hug my little friend. I always have had a way of calling Annie my little friend, which is most absurd as she is inches taller than I am, but there has been a feeling somehow that she must be protected, and persons who must be protected seem little even when they are big.
”Gee, I wish I could take you on a little drive before they come!”
exclaimed Sleepy.
”That is very kind of you but of course I can't leave the shop,” sighed Annie.
”Yes, you can! I am here!”
”But I wouldn't let you keep shop for me,” laughed Annie.
”I'd like to know why not--I bet I can sell more things than you can.
Just you try me.”
”It isn't that! I just couldn't let you. It is something I have to do but it is not right for you to do it.”
”Such nonsense! You just put on your hat and go with Sleepy. How do you know what is the price of things?”
”Almost all the goods have marks on them but here is a list of prices, besides,--but Page, dear,--I just couldn't let you do it.”
”Well, you just can!” and I took off my own hat and put it on her head.
I hadn't known before what a pretty hat it was. Any hat would be glorified by Annie's wonderful honey-colored hair. ”Now give me your ap.r.o.n!” and I untied the little frilly affair that Annie wore to keep shop in and put it on myself.
Sleepy took her by the arm and carried her off, protesting, laughing, holding back, but happy in being coerced.
”Take her for a long drive, Sleepy! I can run this store and sell it out of supplies in no time, I am sure.”
I heard the sound of the red wheels of the spruce little buggy die away as the driver let the young horse have free rein. I gave a sigh of joy.
Here I was keeping store at last! What would Mammy Susan say? It is not often that the acme of one's ambition is reached so young. I smoothed down my ap.r.o.n and slipped in behind the counter just as a customer entered.
It was a farmer's wife who had driven over to the landing for provisions. She hitched her horse and ramshackle buggy in front of the store and came in prepared to spend a delightful hour. Going to the store in the country is the event of the week. Her eye had an eager gleam and there was a flush on her high cheek bones. She was a gaunt-looking woman with hair slicked up so tight under her stiff straw hat that it looked as though it must hurt. The hat had all the flowers that grow in an old-fas.h.i.+oned garden bedecking it, to say nothing of spiky bows of green ribbon and a rhinestone buckle. She had on a linen duster which had evidently been hastily donned over a calico house dress.
”Where's Mr. Pore?”
”He has gone to Richmond.”
”Where's Annie?”
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