"Well, well," said Mr. Fewster; "and they are really for sale? Poor little things! I asked the price of bullfinches yesterday at a bird-fancier's, and the man offered to sell them for four pence each. Not that these are not worth a little more. There is the trouble of training them; of course that is worth a trifle. Still bullfinches are bullfinches all the world over; and bullfinches, I believe, are very plentiful just now--quite a glut of them in the market." He paused, to allow this information to settle in Dan's mind, before he asked, "Now what do you want a pair for these?"
"What do you think they are worth, sir?" asked Dan, much depressed by Mr. Fewster's mode of bargaining.
"No, no, Daniel Taylor," said Mr. Fewster, in a bantering tone, "I am too old a bird for that; not to be caught. Remember my namesake. You couldn't have caught him, you know; even the Queen of Sheba couldn't catch him. I can't be buyer and seller too. Put your price upon the birds; and I will tell you if they suit me."
"You see, sir," said Dan frankly, "you puzzle me. The training of these birds has taken me a long time. You would be surprised if you knew how patient I have to be with them. And you puzzle me when you make so light a thing of my teaching, and when you tell me that bullfinches are a glut in the market. If the bullfinches you can get in the market will suit you, sir, why do you not buy them?"
"Well put, Daniel, well put," said Mr. Fewster good-humoredly. "Still, you must fix a price on them, you know. How much shall we say?"
"Fifteen shillings the pair," said Dan boldly.
Mr. Fewster gave a long whistle, and threw himself into an attitude of surprise. Dan shifted in his seat uneasily.
"A long price," said Mr. Fewster, when he had recovered himself; "a very long price."
"I couldn't take less, sir," said Dan.
"Not ten shillings? Couldn't you take ten shillings?" suggested Mr. Fewster, throwing his head on one side insinuatingly.