Doughty was in a fog—he was under the impression that the words that had fallen from the lips of his host more particularly concerned him, as several present regarded him with a fitful glance.
Presently he mustered up courage, and said to the old man who had previously addressed him—
“What does he mean?”
“Who?”
“The landlord.”
“Oh nothing particular; he takes you for a palmer.”
Joe was as wise as ever, but he concluded that a palmer must be a scounrel of some sort.
“What makes him do that?”
The old man explained matters; he told Doughty that there were a class of thievish vagrants called palmers, who visit shops under the pretence of collecting harp halfpence, and to induce shopkeepers to search for them they offer thirteen pence for a shilling’s worth, when many persons are silly enough to empty a large quantity of coppers on their counters to search for the halfpence wanted.
The palmer is sure to have his hand amongst the treasure, and while he affects to search diligently for the harps he contrives to conceal some halfpence in the palm of his hand, and when he removes his hand from the copper always holds his fingers out straight, so that the shopkeeper has no suspicion that he is being robbed.