I'll have it ready in a jiffy."
Mickey slowly walked to the gate. When the woman came with a basket
covered with a white cloth, he thanked her again; as he took it he rested
his head against her arm, smiling up at her with his wide true eyes.
"A thing I can't understand is," he said, "why when the Lord was making
mothers, he didn't cut all of them from the same piece he did you. I'll
just walk on down the road and smell June beside this clover field. Is it
yours?"
"Yes," she said.
"Would you care if I'd take just a few to Lily? I know she never saw any."
"Take a bunch as big as your head if you want them."
"Lily is so little, three will do her just as well; besides, she's got to
remember how we are fixed, so she needn't begin to expect things to come
her way by baskets and bunches," said Mickey. "She's bound to be spoiled
bad enough as it is. I can't see how I'm going to come out with her, but
she's mine, and I'm going to keep her."
"Mickey," laughed the woman, "don't you think you swing around to Lily
just about the way I do to Peter?"
"Well maybe I do," conceded Mickey.
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