me how much it will cost — and I drop the money into the hole and he
catches it on the other side. Is that how you do it?"
What brats children can be !
Next to the old town hall was Cutting's Store where
everyone bought their groceries. It had a candy counter with wonderful
licorice sticks and I loved licorice and used to buy the biggest pieces
I could find. I never paid for them. I just said "charge to Dickson",
which were magic words. Once I met a friend looking longingly at the
candy but he had no money. "You don't need money," I said, "just say
'charge to Dickson"' and I illustrated my point when the clerk came our
way. Then we both walked off chewing contentedly. I often wonder if he
ever tried this technique on his own.
Once I went to Julia Paine's birthday party and stopped at
Cutting's to buy her a present. I chose a box of candy with a
particularly large piece on the top layer. When I gave it to her she
thanked me, opened it and said, "Have one?" Welcoming this unexpected
opportunity I helped myself to that great big dream piece and set my
greedy teeth into it. Instead of the deli-cious taste I expected, my
mouth was filled with something stale and rancid with a strong metallic
flavor; it apparently had been in Cutting's candy counter a long time.
How I wished that I could go somewhere and spit the thing out !
"Have another," said Julia, pushing the box at me, but I told her
"no thank you." This was one of the few times in my life that I ever
refused a second piece of candy.
On a prominent knoll just east of Weston Center stood