“Whoa, Pactolus. Never mind if some of your longer-eared brothers are whispering to you to entice you away to pastures green—stay you here!”
This reference to donkeys had the effect of causing the mischief loving lads to hastily draw away from the horse, in some confusion, for there were snickers at their expense.
“It is a practical world,” resumed the speaker, “and we must recognize that, and be practical ourselves. Now there is nothing more practical for the removal of any kind of misery, whether inward or outward, than my Peerless Permanent Pain Preventative, which is good for both man and beast, and eradicates all the ills that flesh is heir to, and some that it is not. Good for man and beast I repeat. See! I use it on myself,” and suiting the action to the word, the man, who had black flowing locks, as Bill and Cap could now see, and who wore light trousers, a red and green striped vest and a red shirt with black polka dots—this man vigorously rubbed some stuff from a bottle on his big forearm.
“There I had a pain—’twas there, ’tis gone. ’Twas mine, ’tis yours—for the asking,” and he waved his hand toward the throng of students who laughed again, and seemed amused by the clatter of the traveling medicine man.
“Think not it is only for external pain—’tis also for the ills of the inner organs. See, I take some thusly,” and, tilting back his head the speaker swallowed a generous potion from the bottle. “Good for man and beast,” he went on, smacking his lips. “As harmless as a baby, and as powerful as an electric current. See, Pactolus minds it not, yet it will take the stiffness from him like magic,” and, leaning forward he rubbed some of the contents of the bottle on the animal’s flank.
Pactolus merely looked around, waved his ears slowly to and fro, and seemed to take but a mild interest in the matter under discussion. Probably he was used to it.
“Now who wants a bottle of this wonderful remedy?” went on the man. “The regular price is one dollar, but to introduce it among gentlemen of learning I am selling it for the small sum of twenty-five cents—a quarter—and it would be cheap at half the price. Or, if you have no immediate need for this, let me introduce to your favorable consideration and notice, my Rapid Robust Resolute Resolvent, which is a cake of soap guaranteed to take out stains on linen, silk, wool, cotton, velvet, calico and satin, the skin of the hands or face, from wall paper, newspaper, writing paper or wrapping paper. Positively nothing like it known to science.
“Or, if you care not for these, I have others. My Spotless Saponifier is a soap worthy to be used by all the gods that on Olympus dwell, and it sells for only ten cents a cake. An’ you like that not, let me introduce to your polite and favorable consideration my Supremely Sterling Silver Shiner. Nothing like it known for cleaning silver, gold, brass, copper, pewter, iron, lead, bell-metal, watch chains, baseball bats, and gloves, and for brightening up a dull intellect it has no equal, though I despair of selling any for that purpose when I gaze on the bright, smiling and intelligent faces before me.”
There was a mocking groan from the students at this, and some more laughter.
“And now,” went on the vendor, “who will be the first to purchase some of my Peerless Permanent Pain Preventative, my Rapid Robust Resolute Resolvent, my Spotless Saponifier or the Supremely Sterling Silver Shiner? Who will be the first?” and the man, who was as gaudily attired as his wagon was painted, advanced into the crowd.