“So you don’t want to be called a philosopher?” said the gentleman.
“No, I don’t,” said Tom, eying him suspiciously.
“Then I must make amends.”
He took a dime from his pocket, and handed it to the astonished Tom.
“Is this for me?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Tom’s eyes glistened; for ten cents was a nugget when compared with her usual penny receipts. She stood in a brown study till her patron was half across the street, then, seized with a sudden idea, she darted after him, and tugged at his coat-tail.
“What’s wanted?” he asked, turning round in some surprise.
“I say,” said Tom, “you may call me that name ag’in for five cents more.”
The ludicrous character of the proposal struck him, and he laughed with amusement.