“Good afternoon, Aunt Grenertsen. How do you do?” He sat down in the chair by the door, where he knew he was expected to sit.
“Mother has gone to a luncheon party today.”
“I can well believe it,” said Aunt Grenertsen. “People never stay at home in these days. They are forever flying about.”
Absolute silence again. If only the cuckoo in the clock would come out and call! But it would be almost a quarter of an hour before that would happen. Johnny Blossom racked his brain to think of something to talk about.
“We baked cookies at home yesterday,” he said suddenly.
“Then I presume you ate more of them than was good for you.”
Oh, no, Johnny Blossom had not over-eaten; he could easily eat some today, too; he had had only those that were burnt.
“Burnt, hey? Well, there’s nothing a boy won’t put into his stomach.”
Aunt Grenertsen was unusually disagreeable today. Not a word could he say about the apples, because he had so often before brought up that subject.
“Well, I think I must go now,” he said, rising slowly.
“Yes, you had better,” said Aunt Grenertsen. But when he had gone into the hall she called, “Johnny Blossom!”
“Why, there are those ripe apples. You might climb up in the tree for them, you are so small and light.”
“Yes, Aunt Grenertsen. I’ll go right up now, this minute.”
“No. Come tomorrow. It is altogether too late this afternoon.”
The next day, at a little past two, Johnny Blossom was again in Aunt Grenertsen’s garden. He had gulped down his dinner at an alarming rate, and then hurried to King Street, stopping on his way to get Tellef; for there must be one person to climb and shake the tree and one to stand below and pick up the apples. However, Tellef must stay outside the garden until Aunt Grenertsen had been informed that Johnny had brought an assistant.
“Good afternoon, Aunt Grenertsen, here I am.
“Well, you are early enough I hope. I want to say this much, Johnny Blossom, that I won’t have it on my conscience that you should eat any half-rotten apples—and there are usually a good many half-rotten of this kind—but those that are cracked or bruised you may have, for they won’t keep anyway.”
“I suppose you can get along without Katrina’s help.”
“Oh, yes, perfectly. For that matter, I have a boy outside there who will be a fine helper. He’s very quick and oh! awfully strong.”