Part 5 (1/2)

”Now, then, Cricket, you owe me a lot on those crabs that I furnished you this morning. It took me all yesterday afternoon to catch them, too.

You have sold them all off, I see, already. How much did they bring?

Give me all the lemonade I want, and we'll call it square.”

”I don't care whether you call it square or round,” answered Cricket, briefly, snipping Zaidee's fingers, which were creeping too near the peppermints. ”Zaidee, keep your hands away. You've broken a whole piece out of that.”

”How could she break a whole piece?” teased Archie. ”If it's a piece, 't isn't whole, Miss Scricket.”

”If catching crabs makes you so brilliant, you'd better catch some more,” said Cricket serenely. ”Now, do all of you go away. I see some other people coming down to the dock, and I know they'll buy something, if you go away, so they can see me,” she added, rearranging her wares.

”Billy, drive them off.” Thus ordered, Billy made a lunge at the twins first, and they, secretly half-terrified out of their wits if he spoke to them in his gruff tones, scampered off to Eliza. Eunice and Edna strolled off, eating peanuts, and the boys betook themselves to new sports.

All day the little maid and her faithful ally sat on the little wharf, vending her wares. The dock had half a dozen sailboats moored there, and their various owners, in pa.s.sing to and fro, stopped, laughed, and bought. Soon Billy had to take some of the acc.u.mulated money and go up to Simon's to replenish the stock, and frequent expeditions there through the day were made. The two refreshed themselves in the intervals of business with sundry gla.s.ses of lemonade, and occasional ”peanits,”

while every now and then a piece of a red or of a striped peppermint found its way down Cricket's throat. Billy scrupulously paid for all he ate. By supper-time nearly everything had disappeared.

”Now, I think, Billy, we might just as well drink up this little bit of lemonade, and eat up those peanuts,” said the tired little merchant.

”All the peppermints are gone, and it's most supper-time.”

Billy was nothing loth, and together they soon cleared the board.

”Well, my little peanut woman, how went the day with you?” asked Auntie Jean, at supper. She had, of course, patronized the peanut stand herself during the day, with grandma. ”All your wares sold?”

”Yes, auntie, everything,” answered Cricket, as the always hungry tribe gathered around the supper-table. ”Billy and I ate up what little there was left so it shouldn't be wasted.”

”Then you don't mean to go on with your speculations in peanuts?” asked grandma.

”No-o, I think not, grandma, thank you,” answered Cricket. ”It was very nice to-day, but I think I couldn't stand keeping still all day for _every_ day. But we made a lot of money,” she added, with much satisfaction.

”Well, dear, that is always gratifying,” replied auntie. ”How much did you make? if we may be admitted to the financial secrets of the firm.”

”We made twenty-one cents,” cried Cricket, proudly, ”and I think that's pretty good.”

”Indeed, it is. You're quite a financier. And you invested fifty cents?

Then you have seventy-one cents now.”

”No, we haven't,” returned Cricket, looking puzzled. ”I have twenty-one cents, now. Oh, I spent a lot more than fifty cents. Billy went up to the store five or six times and got more peanuts and things, as fast as the money came in. Now, I have twenty-one cents to put in my box. Isn't that making twenty-one cents?” she asked, looking up, anxiously.

There was a burst of laughter from the older ones.

”My dear little girl,” said Auntie Jean, ”I'm afraid your affairs are not on a sound financial basis. You must have been too generous. People don't call it making money unless they get back all they spend, and more besides. As it is, you had fifty cents this morning and, to-night, you have twenty-one. That looks like losing.”

Cricket stared.

”I don't believe I'm a good speculationer,” she sighed, at last, looking crestfallen. ”Well, I don't care much. I didn't want to keep store any more anyway. It's too poky. Can we be excused, grandma? I _must_ have a ride on Mopsie, or I'll burst!”

CHAPTER V.

A BATH IN CURDS AND WHEY.