"Well, Jimmy, have you had a pleasant walk?" asked his mother.
"Yes, mother; I went down to Fulton Market. There's a good deal
to see there."
"A good deal more than in this dull room, Jimmy."
"It doesn't seem dull to me, mother, while you are here. How did
you make out selling your prize packages?"
"They are all sold, Jimmy, every one. I am making some more."
"Shan't I help you?"
"Yes, I would like to have you. Just take those envelopes, and
write prize packages on every one of them."
"All right, Paul," and Jimmy, glad to be of use, got the pen and
ink, and, gathering up the envelopes, began to inscribe them as
he had been instructed.
By the time the packages were made up, dinner was ready. It was
not a very luxurious repast. There was a small piece of rump
steak--not more than three-quarters of a pound--a few potatoes, a
loaf of bread, and a small plate of butter. That was all; but
then the cloth that covered the table was neat and clean, and the
knives and forks were as bright as new, and what there was tasted
good.
"What have you been doing this morning, Jimmy?" asked Paul.
"I have been drawing, Paul. Here's a picture of Friday. I
copied it from 'Robinson Crusoe.
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