Tom was now thoroughly disgusted with trading, and he resolved that, as long as he lived, he never would attempt it again. As he started to leave the store, the grocer inquired:
“Well, what do you say?”
“I say I can’t sell at your prices,” was the answer; and, in a moment more, Tom was taking long steps toward his home. He did not stop to speak to any of his numerous acquaintances he met on the streets, for fear they might ask him how he was succeeding in business; and not until he reached home, and closed the gate behind him, did he feel safe. As he walked slowly toward the house, he glanced in at the door, and saw his father, seated in the library, reading his paper, and Tom knew that he still had a most difficult task to perform. Mr. Newcombe, of course, would want to know all the particulars of the voyage; and, at that moment, the young trader would have given even his game chickens to be able to avoid the interview. But that was impossible, for his father discovered him as he came up the lawn, and called him into the house. Tom obeyed, and the moment he entered the room, Mr. Newcombe saw at a glance that he had made another failure.
“Well,” he exclaimed, “I suppose you have cleared a small fortune to-day?”
“O, no, I haven’t, either,” whined the discouraged young trader. “I’m afraid I shall lose lots of money. Didn’t I tell you I couldn’t be a speculator?”
“Did you allow somebody to cheat you?” asked the merchant.
Tom saw that his father was determined to know all about the matter, and thinking that the sooner it was over with the better, he drew his memorandum-book from his pocket, and turned to the bill he had made out. His feelings, as he presented it, were very different from what he had that morning imagined they would be. Then, he was confident that he should be able to tell his father he had made money by his day’s work; instead of that he had been a heavy loser.
Mr. Newcombe took the book, and as he glanced over the list of articles that had comprised Tom’s cargo, he saw in an instant where his son had made his mistake.
“What’s this!” he exclaimed, “twenty-one dozen eggs, at—why, Tom, twenty cents for eggs!”
The unpleasant interview was over much sooner than the young trader had expected. His father did not read all the bill, but, closing the book, returned it to Tom, and resumed his reading. He saw that his son was in no humor to talk about what he had done, nor to listen to advice regarding his future operations.