As soon as Cupid learned his
loved one's penchant for marshmallows he contrived to produce a few
each day, even if he had to "nick" them when the "candy girls" weren't
looking.
The morning of Christmas Eve (the day which, Win knew, would decide
her fate at the Hands) Cupid appeared with a whole box of her
favourites instead of the five or six crushed white shapes he
generally offered in a torn bit of clean paper.
"Why, Cupid, how did you come by this gorgeousness?" asked Win, who
had half a minute to spare in the luncheon lull.
"Don't you worry and get a wrinkle, kid," replied the youth, who had
permission to apply any pet name he pleased. "The stuff's mine, all
right. And now it's yours. Unless you think I sneaked it. Then you can
chuck it away, box and all. See?"
"Of course I don't think you sneaked it. You wouldn't do such a thing.
But--ought I to take it? That's the question."
"'It's foolish question 786245,'" quoted Cupid with his weariest
sneer. "I'm the guy what put the nut in cokernut! I guess there'll be
more where this come from in the sweet by and by."
Win eyed him anxiously. Now where had she heard that quotation about
the "foolish question?" Why, it was a slang phrase of Mr.
Pages:
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274