Emma C. Dowd, Doodles, the Sunshine Boy
“ When’ll you get them?”“I do’ know—next week prob’ly.”“And you think there’ll be ice cream?” The question quivered with eagerness.“’Course! ’Twouldn’t be a picnic without! Oh, the Salvation Army folks do things up fine!”“How does ice cream taste? Please tell me again.”“Oh, it’s cold—cold as Blixen! ’N’ it tastes like—let me see—I guess like candy ’n’ cake all in one. It’s harder ’n’ ’most anything, an’ it squ’shes all up and melts to nothin’ right in your mouth.”“Does it taste like Granny’s ginger-bread?”Blue’s head shook decidedly. ”
