Mrs. S. (throwing up her hands). Ten dollars! D’ye think I’m made o’ money? Besides, the clock aint wuth half that. But I don’t mind givin’ you five for it.
Ezek. That don’t pay the cost of importin’ ’em; but, ef you’re goin’ to buy consider’ble, I’ll say five for it. What’s the next thing?
Mrs. S. I want ter git a pair o’ spettercles. As I was ridin’ to meetin’, last Sunday, mine fell off, and the wheel run right over ’em, and smashed the glass all to pieces. I cared more about ’em ’cause they’d ben in the famerly so long. Marm and granny both used ’em afore me.
Ezek. Mebbe they might be mended. Let’s see ’em.
(Mrs. S. produces a pair of heavy, iron-bowed spectacles. Ezekiel looks at them dubiously.)
Ezek. I s’pose they might be fixed, but it’s my opinion ’twouldn’t pay. Besides, the bows are too heavy to wear. Didn’t nobody ever tell ye that wearin’ heavy-bowed specs sometimes made folks round-shouldered?
Mrs. S. (straightening up). No. Dew tell!
Ezek. But I’ve got somethin’ here that’ll suit you to a T. Jest try ’em on (handing her a pair of spectacles). That’s jest the article you want.
Mrs. S. (trying them on and looking up). Well, they’re pooty fair. But I s’pose you’ll charge as much as a dollar for ’em.
Ezek. A dollar! Why, woman alive, you don’t think I’d sell them specs for a dollar. They’re the real genuine periscopic Scotch pebble. They’re well wuth five dollars, but I shall only charge you three for them. ’Taint often you can get such a good article so cheap.