“Confound it!” he said, “if it ain’t a skin, what in thunder is it?”
“Possibly it’s a hide?” suggested the clerk.
“That’s it! That’s it!” exclaimed the man.
“Have you got any black hides of something or anything?”
The clerk shook his head sadly as the man tramped up and down the store.
“Got any black cowhide of anything?” he asked, after a moment’s thought.
The clerk’s face showed a gleam of intelligence, and then broke into a smile.
“Possibly it’s black oxide of manganese you want?” he said, quietly.
“Of course, that’s it!” he exclaimed, as he threw his arms around the clerk’s neck. “I knowed blamed well there was a skin or hide or something somewhere about the thing,” and he calmed down quietly and waited for what he wanted.
Accord, Give