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Phebe, Her Profession
A Sequel to Teddy: Her Book
1902
"How do you do?"
The remark was addressed to a young man who roused himself from a brownstudy and looked up. Then he looked down to see whence the voiceproceeded. Directly in his pathway stood a wee boy, a veritable cherubin modern raiment, whose rosy lips smiled up at him blandly, quiteregardless of the sugary smears that surrounded them. One hand claspeda crumpled paper bag; the other held a rusty iron hoop and a cudgelentirely out of proportion to the size of the hoop.
"And how is everybody at your house?" the babe demanded. "Are veypretty well?"
"Very well, thank you." The young man was endeavoring to remember where,during the two weeks he had spent in Helena, he had seen this child.
"So is my people," the boy explained politely. "It is a great whilesince I have seen you."
Amicably enough, the stranger accepted his suggestion of a pastacquaintance.
"It is a good while. Where have you been keeping yourself?"
The atom tried to drop into step at his side, tangled himself in the longtails of his little coat, gave up the attempt and broke into a jog trot.
"My mamma wouldn't let me go to walk alone for 'most a monf."
"Why?"
"'Cause I used to stay a good while, and spend all my pennies at
Jake's shop."
"Where is that?"
"Vat's where vey sells candy. I've got some now. Want some?" He restedthe hoop against a convenient lamp-post and opened the bag invitingly.
"Thanks, no. You don't appear to have much to spare."
With a sigh of manifest relief, the child gathered up the crumpled top ofthe bag once more.
"I did have some," he explained; "but I gave half of it to a boy. Vat'swhat my Sunday-school teacher said I must do. And ven, by and by, I tookhis hoop," he added, as he resumed his march.
"Did your Sunday-school teacher tell you to do that?"
"No; but I just fought I would. He couldn't give me half of it, you see,for it wouldn't be good for anyfing if it was busted."
"No?" The stranger felt that the child's logic was better than hismoral tone.
"I'm going to be good now, all ve time," the boy went on, looking up withan angelic smile. "When my mamma says 'No, Mac,' I shall say 'All right,'and when my papa smites me, I shall turn ve uvver also. Vat's ve way."
"Does he smite you?"
The smile vanished, as the child slowly nodded three times.
"Yes, awful."
"What did you do to make him smite you?"
Silence.
"What was it?"
The stranger's voice was not so stern as it might have been, and thesmile came back and dimpled the child's cheeks, as he answered,—"Pepperin ve dining-room fireplace."
"What made you do that, you sinner?"
"A boy told me. You ought to have heard vem sneeze, and ven papafumped me."
"Much?"
The child eyed him distrustfully,
"What f