"Only thirty dollars," answered he, "and you will get your money's worth."
I didn't think I'd see much of Ireland or Scotland if I bought a ticket from him, so I told him I'd see him later.
I wandered into the Anchor Line office and asked the ticket agent what the price of a ticket to Glasgow would be.
"Cabin or steerage?" inquired he.
"Steerage, of course; I'm no Vanderbilt."
The agent looked at me quizzingly and then remarked: "From twenty-seven dollars upward, according to accommodation."
I didn't know what he meant by "accommodation" but I thought twenty-seven dollars was enough for me.
"Do you want a ticket?" asked the agent, as if he were in a hurry.
"I haven't the price with me now," said I.