Just as I was on the point of leaving Klaas's, and was
tightening the saddle-girth on my sturdy little pony, Oom Jan Willem
himself sidled up to me with a mysterious air, his broad face all
wrinkled with anticipatory pleasure. He placed a sixpence in my palm,
glancing about him on every side as he did so, like a conspirator.
"What am I to buy with it?" I asked, much puzzled, and suspecting
tobacco. Tant Mettie declared he smoked too much for a church elder.
He put his finger to his lips, nodded, and peered round. "Lollipops
for Sannie," he whispered low, at last, with a guilty smile. "But"--he
glanced about him again--"give them to me, please, when Tant Mettie
isn't looking." His nod was all mystery.
"You may rely on my discretion," I replied, throwing the time-honoured
prejudices of the profession to the winds, and well pleased to aid and
abet the simple-minded soul in his nefarious designs against little
Sannie's digestive apparatus. He patted me on the back. "PEPPERMINT
lollipops, mind!" he went on, in the same solemn undertone. "Sannie
likes them best--peppermint."
I put my foot in the stirrup, and vaulted into my saddle.
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