We like to go ourselves, and there's no other way to satisfy the
children. They get so tired and lonesome in the country."
Mickey was aghast. "They _do?_ Why it doesn't seem possible! I wish I
could trade jobs with Junior for a while. What is his work?"
"He drives the creamery wagon," answered the woman.
"O Lord!" Mickey burst forth. "Excuse me ma'am, I mean----Oh my! Drives a
real live horse along these streets and gathers up the cream cans we pass
at the gates, and takes them to the trolley?"
"Yes," she said.
"And he'd give up _that_ job for blacking somebody's shoes, or carrying
papers, or running errands, or being shut up all summer in a big hot
building! Oh my!"
"When will you be our way again?" asked the woman. "I'll talk this over
with Peter. If we decided to try the little girl and she did the 'waiting'
as you say, she couldn't be much trouble. I should think we could manage
her, and a boy too. I wish you could be the boy. I'd like to have _you_.
I've been thinking if we could get a boy to show Junior what it is he
wants to know about a city, he'd be better satisfied at home, but I don't
know.
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