"Baskets," said Mr. Lamb. "What sort of baskets?"
"Baskets to hold strawberries — little baskets," said Daisy.
"Ah! strawberry-baskets. That, ma'am, is the article."
Was it? Daisy did not think so. The storekeeper had showed her
the kind of baskets commonly used to hold strawberries for the
market; containing about half a pint. She remarked they were
not large enough.
"No, ma'am? They are the kind generally used — regular
strawberry-baskets — we have sold 'em nearly all out, but
we've got a few left."
"They are not large enough, nor pretty enough," repeated
Daisy.
"They'll look pretty when they get the strawberries in them,"
said the storekeeper, with a knowing look at her. "But here's
a kind, ma'am, are a little neater — maybe you would like
these — What do you want, child?"
There had come into the store just after Daisy a little poor-
looking child, who had stood near, watching what was going on.
Daisy turned to look at her as Mr. Lamb's question was thrown
at her over the counter, in a tone very different from his
words to herself. She saw a pale, freckled, pensive-faced
little girl, in very slim clothing, her dress short and
ragged, and feet bare. The child had been looking at her and
her baskets, but now suddenly looked away to the shopkeeper.
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