"Yes, sir," Dick says gravely. He has no idea what regurgitation is.
As they near the cart he tries to keep his steps measured--Mr. Long never hurries, not even in speech--but curiosity and the promise of ice cream prove too much for him. He reaches the cart at an undignified scamper, gazes admiringly at the colorful pictures splashed across it: popsicles that look like rockets, in red, blue, yellow, orange, green, and purple; ice cream sandwiched between two cookies and sprinkled with chocolate chips; a yellow square with a gaping, cartoony smile and gumballs for eyes; cones--King Cones--coated in chocolate and crowned with nuts.
"There's blue ice cream," he says, unable to help himself. He needs to call someone's attention to it. "Blue ice cream and sprinkles."
[location]
As they near the cart he tries to keep his steps measured--Mr. Long never hurries, not even in speech--but curiosity and the promise of ice cream prove too much for him. He reaches the cart at an undignified scamper, gazes admiringly at the colorful pictures splashed across it: popsicles that look like rockets, in red, blue, yellow, orange, green, and purple; ice cream sandwiched between two cookies and sprinkled with chocolate chips; a yellow square with a gaping, cartoony smile and gumballs for eyes; cones--King Cones--coated in chocolate and crowned with nuts.
"There's blue ice cream," he says, unable to help himself. He needs to call someone's attention to it. "Blue ice cream and sprinkles."