"Well, I dare say you are not far wrong, Archer my boy," said the pedlar, wheedlingly. "It's natural you know, ain't it? By the way, Johnny old fellow, do you think you could do an old friend a great favour? It won't cost you anything. I'm not going to ask you to lend me any money."
"Well," said John, "what is it?"
"Why, the fact is," said Mike, "that I have got some fine stuffs that will do for curtains or to cover chairs with. I've got carpets, mattresses, and I don't know what all. Besides which I have got some excellent wine, superfine quality, which if you could induce your master to buy, my fortune would be made."
"It would be useless," answered John Archer. "His lordship never buys either stuffs or wine from country hawkers, but has up everything from London."
"Well, I suppose he would, you know, a great man like him. Still, when a good thing comes in your way, something unique, like this wine of mine, why, it would be madness to let it slip through your fingers without even giving it a trial. Look here now." Here he produced the bottle. "This wine I am in the habit of always carrying about with me as a sample. Here, just taste it. It'll do your heart good." Here he poured out a glass.
"Thank you, no," said Archer.
"Nonsense, man," said the pedlar, "what are you afraid of?"
"Nothing," replied Archer, "only I don't care about it, thank you."
"Drink, drink, man. What's the matter with you?"
"Drink it yourself, I won't rob you of it," said John.