The town-crier was jingling his bell and shouting that Thomas Russell at the auction room on Queen Street would sell a great variety of plain and spotted, lilac, scarlet, strawberry-colored, and yellow paduasoys, bellandine silks, sateens, galloons, ferrets, grograms, and harratines at half past ten o’clock.
Robert tied Jenny to the hitching-rail, and walked amid the hucksters to see what they had to sell; by observation he could ascertain the state of the market, and govern himself accordingly. After interviewing the hucksters he entered a store.
“No, I don’t want any cheese,” said the first on whom he called.
Faneuil Hall.
“The market is glutted,” replied the second.
“If it were a little later in the season I would talk with you,” was the answer of the third.
“I’ve got more on hand now than I know what to do with,” said the fourth.
Robert began to think he might have to take them back to Rumford. He saw a sign, “John Hancock, Successor to Thomas Hancock,” and remembered that his father had traded there, and that John Hancock was associated with Sam Adams and Doctor Warren in resisting the aggressions of the king’s ministers. Mr. Hancock was not in the store, but would soon be there. The clerk said he would look at what Robert had to sell, put on his hat, stepped to the wagon, stood upon the thills, held a cheese to his nose, pressed it with his thumb, tapped it with a gimlet, tasted it, and smacked his lips.