“How much lard?”
“Have you a small pail of it?”
“No’m, I haven’t; but I can give you any amount you want. Three or four pounds, Miss?
“About five, I guess. And have you flour?”
“Yes, indeed.”
And she had sugar, too, and the purchasers began to entertain a new respect for the dingy little store.
“I suppose you don’t live around here,” asked the storekeeper as she bustled excitedly about.
“No, we’re on a boat,” replied Chub.
“I want to know!” was the response. “There was a man in here only last week who came in a boat. He bought a good deal, too, but there was some things he wanted I didn’t have. Would you mind just looking out and seeing if there’s a buggy outside?”
Chub obeyed and reported no buggy in sight. The woman looked anxiously at an old clock and sighed.
“I don’t quite know whether I’m on my head or my heels,” she said with a little apologetic laugh. “I’m just upset to-day.”
They murmured inarticulate sympathy.
