“Thirteen—did—did you say thirteen cents a pound for that butter?” Tom almost gasped.
“Exactly! Butter is very plenty now, and that is all it is worth—thirteen cents.”
Tom was now convinced that the merchant was in earnest; and so astounded and vexed was he to discover that his grand attempt at speculating had failed, that it was with the greatest difficulty that he could refrain from crying.
“Did you pay more than that?” asked Mr. Henry, who plainly saw what was the matter.
“O, yes,” drawled Tom, “I paid more than that. I paid too much.”
“Prices have fallen lately, you know,” said the grocer.
“Then I’ll keep that butter until they rise again,” said Tom, in desperation. “How much do you pay for eggs?”
“Ten cents,” was the answer.
“O, no,” drawled Tom. “I can’t sell for that.”
The store was full of customers; and at this moment the grocer left Tom, to attend to the wants of a gentleman, who appeared to be in a great hurry to transact his business, and the young trader determined to seize the opportunity to do a little calculating. He knew that if he accepted the price offered by the merchant, he would be a heavy loser, and he was anxious to know the full extent of his losses. Beckoning to the fisher-boy to follow him toward the office, he whispered: