Nevertheless, he did not squander his money or fling it to the winds in
one grand splurge. Instead, he began cautiously with the purchase of an
extraordinarily large pickle, which he obtained from an aged negress for
his odd cent, too obvious a bargain to be missed. At an adjacent stand
he bought a glass of raspberry lemonade (so alleged) and sipped it as he
ate the pickle. He left nothing of either.
Next, he entered a small restaurant-tent and for a modest nickel was
supplied with a fork and a box of sardines, previously opened, it is
true, but more than half full. He consumed the sardines utterly, but
left the tin box and the fork, after which he indulged in an inexpensive
half-pint of lukewarm cider, at one of the open booths. Mug in hand,
a gentle glow radiating toward his surface from various centres of
activity deep inside him, he paused for breath--and the cool, sweet
cadences of the watermelon man fell delectably upon his ear:
"Ice-cole WATER-melon; ice-cole water-MELON; the biggest slice of
ICE-cole, ripe, red, ICE-cole, rich an' rare; the biggest slice of
ice-cole watermelon ever cut by the hand of man! BUY our ICE-cole
water-melon?"
Penrod, having drained the last drop of cider, complied with the
watermelon man's luscious entreaty, and received a round slice of
the fruit, magnificent in circumference and something over an inch in
thickness. Leaving only the really dangerous part of the rind behind
him, he wandered away from the vicinity of the watermelon man and
supplied himself with a bag of peanuts, which, with the expenditure of a
dime for admission, left a quarter still warm in his pocket.
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