cally
mature, almost motherly; his tone, while soothing, was quietly firm, as
if he were speaking to a younger child. "See! Here's the fine table!"

Up to this table, still strewn with unwashed dishes and whatever
remained of breakfast, the pair of travelers drew. Then Johnnie, with
the air and the lavishness of a millionaire, ordered an elaborate and
tasty breakfast from a waiter the like of whom was not to be found
anywhere save in his own imagination.

This waiter's name was Buckle, and he had served Johnnie faithfully for
the past several years. In all ways he was an extraordinary person of
his kind, being able to furnish anything that Grandpa and Johnnie might
call for, whether meat, vegetable or fruit, at any time of the year,
this without regard to such small matters as seasons, the difficulties
of importing, adverse hunting laws, and the like. Which meant that
Grandpa could always have his venison, and Johnnie his choice of
fruits--all from the deft hand of a man quick and soft-footed, and full
of low bows, who wore a suit of red velvet fairly loaded with gold bands
and brass buttons.

"Mister Buckle," began Johnnie (for such an august creature in red
velvet could not be addressed save with a courteous title), "a turkey,
please, an' some lemon pie, an' some strawberry ice cream an' fifteen
pounds of your best candy."

"Candy! candy! candy!" clamored Grandpa, impatiently beating on the
table with his spoon like a baby.

Buckle was wonderful. As Johnnie's orders swept him hither and thither,
how he transformed the place, laying down the articles called for upon a
crisp red tablecloth that was a glorious full brother to one that
belonged to the little Jewish lady who lived upstairs. But Grandpa took
little interest in Buckle, though he picked eagerly enough at the viands
which Johnnie urged upon him.

"Here's your turkey," pointed out the boy, giving the old man his first
spoonful of cereal. "My goodness, did y' ever _see_ such a drumstick!
Now another!--'cause, gee! you'll be starved 'fore ever we git t'
Niaggery! Mm! but ain't that turkey fine?"

"Mm! Mm!" agreed the veteran.

"Mister Buckle, I'll take some soda and some popcorn," went on Johnnie,
spooning out his own saucer of oatmeal. "And some apples and oranges,
and bananas and cherries and grapes."

Fruit was what he always ordered. How almost terribly at times he
yearned for it! For the only fruit that ever Barber brought home was
prunes. Johnni