The Imp's Christmas Dinner
The Imp had never heard of a floor-walker, but he nodded comprehendingly.
"Oh! A flawker," he said. "Is he horrid?"
"He's a pig," said the little girl.
"Sadie! Oh, Sadie!"
Coming towards them with a small parasol and a Japanese gong under her arm and an empty basket on her head, like a little Italian, was another little girl in a black sateen apron and pigtails.
"Wha'cher want?" she said, looking with some interest at the Imp.
"Will you take these to Miss Murphy at the ribbon counter? I daresn't go near it—Wicks is mad at me again."
"He's mad at me too," objected Sadie. "I sassed him Tuesday and he was hoppin' mad. Are you takin' back the kid?"
"Yes," said the other girl promptly. "He's lost."
It struck the Imp for the first time that this was a fact. He was lost, and as the idea came over him with full force and he imagined Maggie hunting vainly for her little boy, his chin quivered and the gorgeous lantern above his head grew blurred for a moment.
105
