Was he awfully nice, and did he say awfully sweet things to you?"
"He was dem sweet—oh, yes," said the peddler-woman. She grinned. "And I was young."
"And you liked it when you were young and he was sweet, didn't you?"
"Yes, I guess so. I was young," she answered.
The fact that one is young seems to imply—in the Italian peddler mind—a lacking in some essential points.
"And don't you like your man now?" I asked.
"Dat-a man, he's all right, in Italy—he is," replied the woman.
"Well," I observed, "if I had a man who had been dem sweet once, when I had been young, but who was not sweet any more, I think I should leave him in Italy, too."
"You'll git a man some day soon," said the peddler-woman.
I was interested to know that.
"They all do—oh, yes," she said.
