I asked his reason for selling. He replied that it was a stock that had gone through a fire, and he had bought it for a few hundred dollars and was then six hundred dollars ahead, and would sell the balance cheap. I stepped inside and after glancing over the stock asked his price.
"Six hundred dollars."
"I'll give you just twenty-five per cent. of that, and no more," and started to walk out.
"I'll take two hundred fifty."
"No sir," taking a roll of money from my pocket and showing it to him, "one hundred and fifty, and your cash in your fingers."
"All right, count it out."
"But step to the Recorder's office and assure me that there is no mortgage on your stock and that it belongs to you, and after giving me a bill of sale your money is ready."
He did so, and I made the purchase.
In this stock was a quantity of paper cambric of all colors, and when the firemen were trying to put out the fire they had deluged it, and the result was that the water had soaked through it and had carried with it all the colors, leaving each piece variegated.
I was at a loss to know what to do with it, and finally concluded to cut it up into dress patterns of sixteen and two-thirds yards and then give one pattern away with each dollar sale that evening when I sold at auction.