nged a look of mutual comprehension.
"How do you do, Thomas Candy?" said Mrs. Tree, formally, holding out her
little hand in its white lace mitt. It was afternoon, and she was
dressed to receive callers.
"Shake hands as if you meant it, boy! I said _shake hands_, not flap
flippers; you are not a seal. There! that's better. How do you do,
Thomas Candy?"
"How-do-you-do-Missis-Tree-I'm-pretty-well-thank-you-and-hope-you-are-
the-same."
Having uttered this sentiment as if it were one word, Master Candy drew
a long breath, and said in a different tone, "I came to see the bird and
hear 'bout Grampy; can I?"
"_May_ I, not _can_ I, Tommy Candy! You mayn't see the bird; he's having
his nap, and doesn't like to be disturbed; but you may hear about your
grandfather. Sit down on the stool there. Open the drawer, and see if
there is anything in it."
The boy obeyed with alacrity. The drawer (it belonged to a sandalwood
table, inlaid with chess-squares of pearl and malachite), being opened,
proved to contain burnt almonds in an ivory box, and a silver saucer
full of cubes of fig-paste, red and white. Tommy Candy seemed to find
words unequal to the situation; he gave Mrs. Tree an eloquent glance,
then obeyed her nod and helped himself to both sweetmeats.
"Good?" inquired Mrs. Tree.
"Bully!" said Tommy.
"Now, what do you want to hear?"
"About Grampy."
"What about him?"
"Everything! like what you told me last time."
There was a silence of perfect peace on one side, of reflection on the
other.
"Solomon Candy," said Mrs. Tree, presently, "was the worst boy I ever
knew."
Tommy grinned gleefully, his mouth curving up to his nose, and rumpled
his spiky hair with a delighted gesture.
"Nobody in the village had any peace of their lives," the old lady went
on, "on account of that boy and my brother Tom. We went to school
together, in the little red schoolhouse that used to stand where the
academy is now. We were always friends, Solomon and I, and he never
played tricks on me, more than tying my pigtail to the back of the
bench, and the like of that; but woe betide those that he didn't take a
fancy to. I can hear Sally Andrews now, when she found the frog in her
desk. It jumped right into her face, and fell into her apron-pocket,--we
wore aprons with big pockets then,--and she screamed so she had to be
taken home. That was the kind of prank Solomon was up to, every day of
his life; and fishing for schoolmaster
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