"Won't what? Marry Phrony Marlin? I will not! You may lay out your stock on that. I think I'll be goin' now, Mr. Cheeseman. That my butter-scotch? I'll take it right along, if you say so."
Mr. Cheeseman rose, and began packing the butter-scotch, glancing anxiously now and then at Calvin, who stood lost in thought, his hand still in his brown locks.
"I'll stop the talk in the street, Calvin," he said solicitously. "That I can do, and will before an hour's over. But isn't there something else I can do? I'd take it as a kindness if you'd let me help you, any way, shape or manner that you can think of."
"I guess not, sir!" said Calvin; "full as much obliged to you, though. I guess I've got to work this out for myself. I've got a long route to-day, all round by Tupham and the Corners, and I'll study it out as I go along. I've got to think of—of the woman I hope to marry, God bless her, and yet I've got to think of them two poor misfortunate creatur's that haven't a friend in the world as I know of except me. And as for the talk," he added, "well,—yes! if you'll stop that I'll be greatly obliged to you. But do it as easy as you can, Mr. Cheeseman! Just say it ain't so, you know, or she was jokin', or like that; let her off as easy as you can, poor creatur'. I don't think she's just right in her mind. Why, she can't be! There! now I'll be ramblin' along."
He started to leave the kitchen, but the old candy-maker caught his sleeve eagerly.
"Friend Calvin," he said, "how did the Christmas trade come out? You haven't told me a word."
"That so?" said Calvin. "This confounded rinktum put it out of both our heads, I expect. Why, I done first-rate, Mr. Cheeseman; first-rate! I've got five hundred dollars laid by now, sir; and as I reckon it out that's enough to start out on, with a good route, doin' well. What say?"
"Full enough!" said Mr. Cheeseman heartily. "I wish you joy, friend Calvin! Have you got it in the bank?"
Calvin's face fell slightly.
"Not yet," he said. "I only got my full sum made up last night; 'twarn't convenient for some to pay cash, you know, and to-day's bank holiday. But to-morrow mornin', Mr. Cheeseman, at nine o'clock, you look out and you'll see little Calvin on them bank steps over yonder, with his wallet in his hand; and then, Mr. Cheeseman,—then's my time!"