While this conversation was going on, one of the clerks had weighed the butter, and, when Mr. Henry had been informed of the number of pounds, he leaned his elbows on the counter and said:
“Now, then, Tom, you have fifteen dozen eggs and ten pounds of butter. Is that right?”
“Yes, that’s correct; but I’d like to have you take those game chickens.”
“I can’t give your price for them,” repeated the grocer. “Now, how much are the eggs and butter worth?”
The young trader did not know what reply to make to this question, for the breaking of six dozen of his eggs, and Mr. Henry’s refusal to take his chickens at three dollars each, had completely upset all his calculations. He wanted to make ten dollars by his day’s work, but he did not know how much to ask for the eggs and butter to clear that amount. He would have been very much relieved could he have had a few moment’s conversation with the fisher-boy; but, by such a proceeding, he would certainly show his ignorance, and that was something he did not wish to do. He could see but one way to act; so, after looking about the store for a moment, and putting on a serious face, as if busily engaged in making calculations, he turned to the grocer and asked:
“What do you think my cargo is worth?”
“Well,” was the answer, “although that butter is rather mussed up, I will give you full price for it—thirteen cents a pound.”
Down came all the bright hopes of the young trader, who started back from the counter in astonishment, and looked at the grocer as if he could hardly believe that he had heard aright.
“Why, what’s the matter?” asked Mr. Henry.