He
expressed a preference for the clowns, but didn't like the colors.
"I want him boo'," he informed Miss Emily, "he's for a girl, and she
yikes boo'."
"Blue," said the nurse austerely, "you know your mother doesn't like
baby talk, Teddy."
"Ble-yew--" said the small boy, carefully.
"Blue clowns," Miss Emily stated, sympathetically, "are hard to get.
Most of them are red. I have the nicest thing that I haven't shown
you. But it costs a lot--"
"It's a birfday present," said the small boy.
"Birthday," from the Chorus.
"Be-yirthday," was the amended version, "and I want it nice."
Miss Emily brought forth from behind the glass doors of a case a small
green silk head of lettuce. She set it on the counter, and her fingers
found the key, then clickety-click, clickety-click, she wound it up.
It played a faint tune, the leaves opened--a rabbit with a wide-frilled
collar rose in the center. He turned from side to side, he waggled his
ears, and nodded his head, he winked an eye; then he disappeared, the
leaves closed, the music stopped.
The small boy was entranced. "It's boo-ful--"
"Beautiful--" from the background.
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