Worth his While

ÒItÕs no good staying here,Ó said Benny to himself, as he got up and stretched his arms over his head. ÒItÕs just about as hot as it is at home. I wonder what there is for supper. My, but IÕd like some ice cream! I havenÕt had any for so long, and I reckon I never will have any again.Ó And at this very sobering thought Benny began to patter along over the sidewalk, almost forgetting that this was the hottest day of the season, entirely too hot for May, and that the big excursion steamer, which he had been waiting to see, would soon be in sight.

ÒÕTainÕt any use to wait,Ó he said to himself, as if apologizing. ÒIÕd only see the crowd, and whatÕs a crowd, anyhow?Ó

So he marched on up the street, passing the fruit stands and ill-smelling warehouses, until he turned into one of the small streets leading out of the thoroughfare, and presently he arrived at a small two-story brick house, one of a long row. So much alike were these buildings that it is a wonder Benny knew how to tell his own home without counting the doorways.