“These goods are strictly new, and of the latest designs,” called out Matt, looking squarely at the man. “They are direct from New York, and I venture to say cannot be duplicated in High Bridge at the price at which I am knocking them down for. Now, ladies and gentlemen, what am I offered for this elegant family album, bound in plush, with sliver-plated clasps?”
“One dollar!” called a rustic, standing close at hand.
“A dollar and a quarter!” shouted a farmer near the door.
“See here, Podders, you ought to buy your things of me,” whispered the keeper of the general store to the latter bidder. “I trust you till the money for crops comes in.”
“So you do—and I pay you for the accommodation, too,” retorted the farmer.
“I can sell you an album for half the money he’ll charge you.”
“I don’t know about that,” returned the farmer, with a shake of his head.
“Yes, I can. Come on over to the store and see.”
“I want to watch this sale first.”