e pin one o' these carnations
on you, too. They ain't sellin' so fast an' 'twould look purty on your
blue frock. Blue an' white an' yeller--frock an' flower an' curly
head--they compare right good."

Ere Jane's long gossip was ended, her favorite's fears were wholly
banished. With a hug for thanks and farewell, Glory was off and away,
and the tired eyes of the toilers in the Lane brightened as she flitted
past their dingy windows, waving a hand to this one and that and smiling
upon all. To put her earnings away in the canvas bag and catch up her
flat, well-mended basket, took but a minute, and, singing as she went,
the busy child sped around to that block where Antonio had his stand.

That day the trade in goobers had been slack and other of his small
employees had found the peanut-man a trifle cross; but, when Glory's
shining head and merry face came into view, his own face cleared and he
gave her a friendly welcome.

"A fifty-bagger this time, dear Toni! I've got to get a heap of money
after this for grandpa!"

"Alla-right, I fill him," returned the vender; and, having carefully
packed the fifty small packets in the shallow basket, he helped her to
poise it on her head, as he had long since taught her his own
countrywomen did. This was a fine thing for the growing child and gave
her a firm erectness not common to young wage-earners. She was very
proud of this accomplishment, as was her teacher, Antonio, and had more
than once outstripped Billy Buttons in a race, still supporting her
burden.

"Sell every bag, little one, and come back to me. I, Antonio Salvatore
have secret, mystery. That will I tell when basket empty. Secret bring
us both to riches, indeed!"

Crafty Antonio! Well he knew that the little girl's curiosity was great,
and had led her into more than one scrape, and that his promise to
impart a secret would make her more eager to sell her stock than the
small money payment she would earn by doing so.

Glory clasped her hands and opened her brown eyes more widely,
entreating, "Now, Toni, dear Tonio, tell first and sell afterward.
Please, please."

"No, not so, little one. Sell first, then I tell. If you sell not----"
Antonio shrugged his shoulders in a way that meant no sale, no secret.
So, already much belated, Goober Glory--as she had now become--was
forced to depart to her task, though she turned about once or twice to
wave farewell to her employer and to smile upon him, but she meant to
make t