One of the men grinned at her from the back of the store, calling, "Hello, kid!" and Maudlin Bates, swinging idly on a stool, shouted, "What's wanted now, Jinnie?" and still another man came forward with the question, "Where'd you get the flower, lass?"
"Bought it," replied Jinnie, leaning against the counter. "I got it next door for the cobbler. He's lame and can't get out."
The market man turned to wait upon her.
"Five cents' worth of chopped meat," ordered Jinnie, "and four sausages."
"Ain't you afraid you'll overload your stomachs over there at the cobbler's shop?" laughed one of the men. "I'll tell you what I'll do, Jinnie ... Do you see that ring of sausage hangin' on that hook?"
The girl nodded wonderingly, looking sidewise at Maudlin.
"Well, if you'll give us a dance, a good one, mind you, still keepin' the wood on your back, I'll buy you the hull string. It'll last a week the way you folks eat meat."
Jinnie's face reddened painfully, but the words appealed to her money-earning spirit, and with a curious sensation she glanced around. Could she dance, with the wondering, laughing, admiring gaze of the men upon her? And Maudlin, too! How she detested his lustful, doltish eyes!
She straightened her shoulders, considering. The wood was heavy, and the strap, bound tightly about her chest and arms, made her terribly tired. But a whole string of sausage was a temptation she could not withstand. In her fertile imagination she could see Lafe nod his approbation, and Peggy joyously frying her earnings in the pan. She might even get three more kisses when no one was looking.
"I don't know what to dance," she said presently, studying the rose in her confusion.
"Oh, just anything," encouraged the man on the stool. "I'll whistle a tune."
"Hand her the sausage, butcher;" sniggered Maudlin, "then she'll be sure of it. The feel of it'll make her dance better."
The speaker grinned as the butcher took the string from the hook. Jinnie slipped the stem of the cobbler's rose between her white teeth, grasped the sausage in one hand and gripped the shortwood strap with the other. Then the man started a rollicking whistle, and Jinnie took a step or two.
Every one in the place drew nearer. Here was a sight they never had seen--a lovely, shy-eyed, rosy, embarrassed girl, with a load of kindling wood on the strong young shoulders, turning and turning in the center of the market. In one hand she held a ring of sausage, and between her lips a white rose.
"If you'll give us a grand fine dance, lass," encouraged the butcher, "you c'n have the chopped meat, too."