He labelled her in his mind as `` the nice , rosy lady . '' The nice , rosy lady noticed Chester staring at her after awhile . She smiled promptly at him -- a smile that seemed fairly to irradiate her round face -- and then began fumbling in an old-fashioned reticule she carried , and from which she presently extracted a chubby little paper bag . `` If you like candy , little boy , '' she said to Chester , `` here is some of my sugar taffy for you . '' Chester did not exactly like being called a little boy . But her voice and smile were irresistible and won his heart straightway . He took the candy with a shy , `` Thank you , ma'am , '' and sat holding it in his hand . `` Eat it , '' commanded the rosy lady authoritatively . `` That is what taffy is for , you know . '' So Chester ate it . It was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted in his life , and filled a void which even the crackers and cheese had left vacant . The rosy lady watched every mouthful he ate as if she enjoyed it more than he did . When he had finished the taffy she smiled one of her sociable smiles again and said , `` Well , what do you think of it ? '' `` It 's the nicest taffy I ever ate , '' answered Chester enthusiastically , as if he were a connoisseur in all kinds of taffies . The rosy lady nodded , well pleased . `` That is just what everyone says about my sugar taffy . Nobody up our way can match it , though goodness knows they try hard enough . My great-grandmother invented the recipe herself , and it has been in our family ever since . I 'm real glad you liked it . '' She smiled at him again , as if his appreciation of her taffy was a bond of good fellowship between them .
She did not XXXXX it but , nevertheless , she was filling the heart of a desperate small boy , who had run away from home , with hope and encouragement and self-reliance .
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