there was a smell of wet dust from the street where the watering cart had passed. In the beds of dark earth that bordered the cement path leading from the gate to the front porch, Noble, the Driggs' hired man, had that morning set out clumps of pansies from Clark's, each clump wide apart and surrounded by a moat of muddy water, and newly-set-out pansy plants circled the fountain where the two iron children took shelter under their iron umbrella. Charlotte always pretended that she was the little iron girl, and Hoagland the boy. And Hoagland liked Charlotte best of all the girls, and used to take her to drive in his pony cart, drawn by small Prince with his deep bang and tiny fleet feet, while the other children escorted them on foot, chanting:
And I know what will please her—
A bottle of wine to make her shine,
And Hoagland Driggs to squeeze her!"
They would all trail downtown to McCardle's, for sodas, scrambling up on the high stools, Charlotte giving Jodie a boost, choosing wild cherry or blood orange—adventurous, almost frightening names—blowing through straws into their sodas to make them bubble and foam. Hoagland generally paid for everyone. "Wait till I go in and tease mamma for some money," he would say in a businesslike way before they started. Sometimes he had two or three sodas at a time. Once
