"I know what I mean," answered the little old fellow in tones of mock indignation, "and I'll not allow a chit of a girl to correct my astronomy. I'm your schoolmaster, and if I say the sun comes after the day, why after the day it comes. Now, there!" he continued, as they entered the store. "Turn your face to the wall and do penance. Such insolence!" The girl faced the wall, and after a moment she looked laughingly over her shoulder at him. "If you'll let me turn around, I'll admit that the sun comes at midnight, if you say it does, Billy Little." "Midnight it is," said Billy, sternly. "Take your seat." She ran laughing to Billy, and clasping his arm affectionately, said with a touch of seriousness:-- "It comes whenever you say it does, Billy Little. I'd believe you before I'd believe myself." Poor old bachelor heart! Look to your breastworks; the enemy is at hand. "Now I've noticed," said cynical Billy, "that whenever the feminine heart wants something, it grows tender. What do you want?" "I want a letter, Billy Little. Father sent me down to fetch it, if there is one." "Yes, there's one here," he answered, going back of the glass-covered pigeon-holes. "There's one here from Indianapolis. It's from your Uncle Jim Fisher. I suppose he's after your father again to sell his farm and invest the proceeds in the Indianapolis store. Precious fool he'll be if he does." "Indeed, he would not be a fool," retorted the girl. "I'm just wild for father to move to Indianapolis. I don't want to grow up in the country like a ragweed or mullein stalk, and I--" ("Like a sweetbrier or a golden-rod," interrupted Billy) "and I don't want you to advise him not to go," she continued, unmindful of Billy's flowers of poesy. "Well, here's the letter. Do you want anything else?" "N-o-o-no." "Then, for once, I've found a disinterested female in a coaxing mood," replied this modern Diogenes. He came from behind the counter, pretending to believe her, and started toward the door. "How's Dic?" he asked. "I haven't seen him for a fortnight. I've been wondering what has become of him." The girl's face turned red--painfully so to Billy--as she replied:-- "I--I haven't seen him either for--for a very long time--three days." She stopped talking and Billy remained silent. After a long pause she spoke up briskly, as if she had just remembered something. "Oh, I almost forgot--there _is_ something I want, and--and after all, you're right. I want--I want--won't you--will you--I say, Billy Little, won't you let me have a sheet of writing paper and a pot of ink, and won't you cut this pen for me?" Billy took the quill and turned to go behind the counter. The girl was dancing nervously on her toes. "But say, Billy Little, I can't pay you for them now. Will--will--you trust me?" Billy did not reply, but went to the letter-paper box.