Cinderella book, and their business system is
always defective.

How, then, can a little boy expect to accomplish any miracles
like riding on the street-sprinkler? It is not reasonable; David
himself decided that it wasn't, and he concluded to try something
more feasible, something that looked simple and easy and more
natural. Next time he would do better. Why shouldn't he? When one
is four years old, nearly anything ought to be possible. All he
had to do was to await another opportunity, and then pounce down
on it.

This time, though, it was slow in coming, and when it did come it
didn't look much like an opportunity. It was too easy. In shape
it was a very ragged man with a very dirty face and a very red
nose and a very greasy hat. He came by, a-munching on an apple, a
big apple, a crispy-sounding apple, a shiny ripe and luscious
apple. How cool it would feel in a little boy's hands if he were
to hold it tight and then take a big, sweet, juicy bite out of
it!

Should David accept the remainder of the man's apple? No, that
would not be right; little boys must not be greedy. Just the
teeniest, weeniest, wee bite would be quite sufficient for him.

But, heigh-ho and alack-aday! the dirty-faced man and the
red-nosed man and the man with the greasy hat passed slouchily
on, a-munching and a-crunching of his apple.

That was enough. David cast himself down from the fence-post of
deception and was off for the house, his arm before his eyes, and
his new shoes creaking dolorously. He must find refuge in
Mother's lap; she must help him to soothe away his hurt; he must
have solace for this wretched failure of great hopes.

But before reaching her, David suddenly found himself seized by
some mysterious force which sent him floating into space. Back
and forth he swam like, a pendulum, and when he alighted, it was
on a man's shoulder, and the man was Dr. Redfield.

"You're not hurt, are you?" he asked.

David would not be comforted. He struggled to the ground.

"What's the use?" he demanded between sobs. "What's the use of
being four years old?"

CHAPTER V

THE MUG OF WOE

"New shoes! Where in the world did we get new shoes?"

Dr. Redfield was the first to rightly appreciate the grandeur of
them, and he was delighted to hear how they could squeak. Land
sakes! but they were wonderful. Greatly astonished he was, and so
swollen with pride was the little boy that he didn't care--not so
very much--even if his