"Here it is," said Walter, who happened to know just where to find it. "Isn't it a good picture? And there are plenty more as good. It's a book that ought to be in every family."
"Really, Mr. Burton, I don't know but we might as well take it," said the landlady. "He takes it out in board, you know."
"Just as you say," said the landlord. "I am willing."
"Then I'll take the book. Emma will like to look at it."
So Walter made the first sale, on which he realized a profit of one dollar and a quarter.
"It's a pretty easy way to earn money," he reflected with satisfaction, "if I can only sell copies enough. One copy sold will pay for a day's board."
He went to bed early, and enjoyed a sound and refreshing sleep. He was cheered with hopes of success on the morrow. If he could sell four copies a day, that would give him a profit of five dollars, and five dollars would leave him a handsome profit after paying expenses.
The next morning after breakfast he started out, carrying with him three books. Knowing nothing of the residents of the village, he could only judge by the outward appearance of their houses. Seeing a large and handsome house standing back from the street, he decided to call.
"The people living here must be rich," he thought. "They won't mind paying three dollars and a half for a nice book."
Accordingly he walked up the gravelled path and rang the front-door bell. The door was opened by a housemaid.