"Twenty-five cents!" ejaculated the customer, with a gasp of amazement. "Come now, you're jokin'."
"No, I aint," said Ben.
"You don't mean to say you charge twenty-five cents for five minutes' work?"
"Reg'lar price," said Ben.
"Why I don't get but twelve and a half cents an hour when I work out hayin'," said the young man in a tone expressive of his sense of the unfairness of the comparative compensation.
"Maybe you don't have to pay a big license," said Ben.
"A license for blackin' boots?" ejaculated the countryman, in surprise.
"In course. I have to deposit five hundred dollars, more or less, in the city treasury, before I can black boots."
"Five—hundred—dollars!" repeated the customer, opening his eyes wide at the information.
"In course," said Ben. "If I didn't they'd put me in jail for a year."