"I don't know anything about plows," said the clerk, coldly. "You'd better show it to somebody else—I never saw a plow in my life."
"Never saw a plow!" ejaculated Jonathan, in the utmost surprise. "Why, where have you been livin' all your life?"
"In London."
"And don't they have plows in the stores?"
"I suppose they may, but they're not in my line."
"Why, I knowed a plow as soon as I could walk," said Mr. Tarbox.
"I leave such things to laborers," said Mr. Robinson, superciliously. "I feel no interest in them."
"Ain't you a laborer yourself?" asked Jonathan.
"I—a laborer!" exclaimed Mr. Robinson, with natural indignation. "Do you mean to insult me?"
"I never insult nobody. But don't you work for a livin'? That's what I mean."