"Well, then, that's mine," Dr.
Lavendar would say.
"Why, that's only a teacup! We have thousands of them at our house!"
David boasted. "I should think you would rather have the toad. I'll--
I'll give you the toad, sir?"
"Oh, dear me, no," Dr. Lavendar protested; "I wouldn't rob you for the
world." And so they sauntered on, hand in hand. When they came to a
book-store, Dr. Lavendar apologized for breaking in upon their "game."
"I'm going to play _mine_, in here," he said.
David was quite content to wait at the door and watch the people, and
the yellow boxes full of windows, drawn by mules with bells jingling
on their harness. Sometimes he looked fearfully back into the shop;
but Dr. Lavendar was still playing "mine," so all was well. At last,
however, he finished his game and came to the door.
"Come along, David; this is the most dangerous place in town!"
David looked at him with interest. "Why did you skip with your eye
when you said that, sir?" he demanded.
At which the clerk who walked beside them laughed loudly, and David
grew very red and angry.
But when Dr. Lavendar said, "David, I've got a bone in my arm; won't
you carry a book for me?" he was consoled, and immediately began to
ask questions. It seemed to Dr. Lavendar that he inquired about
everything in heaven and earth and the waters under the earth, and at
last the old gentleman was obliged, in self-defence, to resort to the
formula which, according to the code of etiquette understood by these
two friends, signified "stop talking.
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