“More cheapee,” I said.
He showed me one for eight dollars.
“Still more cheapee, much more cheapee.”
He then brought out one for three dollars that looked the same to me, and would catch the Panama dust and filter the Caribbean showers just as faithfully as if I paid twelve dollars for it. I gave him a five-dollar bill and received seven dollars back. I then spied a beautiful piece of silk embroidery and drawn-work about as wide as a door mat and a little longer. I guessed it to be a bureau cover but called it a door mat, for short.
“How muchee?” I asked.
“Eight dollah.”
“What? Eight dollah for door mat? No go. It looks well but it wouldn’t last an hour in Chicago. It is full of holes. I never pay for holes. Deduct for the holes and I’ll buy it.”
“No put him out doah. Keep him in house.”
“Oh, I see, he is a towel. But when we wash in Chicago we use muchee water. It would take three of him for one wiping, and then there would be no opportunity for friction. Such a towel——”
“No towel. Put him on table,” interrupted the Chinaman, with a trace of alteration in the tone of his voice.