"'Well, all the same I don't want any!' he says; and he starts to go back into the store.
"'Excuse me!' I says, as polite as I knew how. 'Would you have any objections to namin' over the things you don't want? I didn't know as I'd offered you anything, but mebbe I done it in my sleep.'
"'Glucose is one thing,' he says. 'Terry alba, coal-tar, plaster-of-Paris; them's some of the things I don't want. And you're another. Is that enough?'
"'Not quite I says. 'Go slow, shipmate! If you wanted them things the wust way in the world you couldn't get 'em off'n me, 'cause I ain't got 'em."
"He grunted. 'Tell that to the monkey!' he says.
"'I am,' I says, 'or the nearest I can see to one.'
"'He always had 'em he says,'and tried to sell 'em to me every time he come by.'
"'I know!' says I. 'I found 'em in the stock, and I sot 'em on the fire and seen 'em burn. Gitty up, hossy!' I says. 'We'll go on and see if there's any place in this village where they keep manners,' I says, 'and we'll send this old gentleman a half a pound to stock up with!' I says.
"'Hold on!' he says. 'I spoke too quick. Come in and we'll talk.'
"So I went. Had half a mind not to, but 'twan't the sensible half. I tell you, I had a real pleasant time, Miss Hands. Come to get him smoothed down and combed out, and he was as pleasant an old gentleman as ever I see. But he was an old-fashioned candy-maker, you see, and he didn't like these new-fangled ways any more than what I do. Never had a pound of glucose on his premises, nor never will; nothin' but pure sugar. We had a real good time together; and he gave me them pep'mints, and I'm goin' to have 'em reg'lar every week. He's got a little kitchen in back there that's a perfect pictur' to look at. I'd like to have you see it, Miss Hands, honest I would."