PART II. Neighboring Fields
6. CHAPTER VI (continued)
"Shall I tell her about them?" Alexandra asked. "Sit down like
a good girl, Marie, and don't ruin my poor hat, and I'll tell you
a story. A long time ago, when Carl and I were, say, sixteen and
twelve, a circus came to Hanover and we went to town in our wagon,
with Lou and Oscar, to see the parade. We hadn't money enough to
go to the circus. We followed the parade out to the circus grounds
and hung around until the show began and the crowd went inside the
tent. Then Lou was afraid we looked foolish standing outside in
the pasture, so we went back to Hanover feeling very sad. There
was a man in the streets selling apricots, and we had never seen
any before. He had driven down from somewhere up in the French
country, and he was selling them twenty-five cents a peck. We had
a little money our fathers had given us for candy, and I bought
two pecks and Carl bought one. They cheered us a good deal, and
we saved all the seeds and planted them. Up to the time Carl went
away, they hadn't borne at all."
"And now he's come back to eat them," cried Marie, nodding at Carl.
"That IS a good story. I can remember you a little, Mr. Linstrum.
I used to see you in Hanover sometimes, when Uncle Joe took me to
town. I remember you because you were always buying pencils and
tubes of paint at the drug store. Once, when my uncle left me at
the store, you drew a lot of little birds and flowers for me on a
piece of wrapping-paper. I kept them for a long while. I thought
you were very romantic because you could draw and had such black
eyes."
Carl smiled. "Yes, I remember that time. Your uncle bought you
some kind of a mechanical toy, a Turkish lady sitting on an ottoman
and smoking a hookah, wasn't it? And she turned her head backwards
and forwards."
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