my poor, little store. Now just pull the box out and I'll be all right."

Bunny and Sue tugged at the box on which Mrs. Golden had been standing
when she slipped and fell. It was hard work, but they managed to pull it
out, and then Mrs. Golden, with a few more grunts and groans, could get
up.

"Oh, my poor back!" she exclaimed, as she sank into a chair outside the
counter.

"Is it broken?" asked Sue anxiously.

"No, not quite," was the answer, with a little smile. "But it's
strained, and I expect I'll be lame for a while. Philip always told me
not to stand up on things to reach the top shelves, and I guess he was
right."

"Who is Philip?" asked Bunny.

"Philip is my son," was the answer. "He's a grown man, and he has to go
off to work every day, though he helps me in the store as much as he
can. I wouldn't want him to know I fell. It would only worry him, and he
might make me give up my store. And I don't want to do that. I'm feeling
better now. I'll be all right in a little while. Did you want something,
my dears?" she asked, for she must not forget that she was a
storekeeper.

"We wanted some baking powder," said Sue. "But we aren't in any hurry."

"We are in a _little_ hurry," said Bunny. "'Cause Mary's got a cake