"These are what we should call shining goods," said the shopman, as he held up the silks, alpacas, &c., to the light.
"They're not the SHINY sort that I want," pursued the digger, half-doggedly, half-angrily. "I'll find another shop; I guess you won't show your best goods to me—you think, mayhap, I can't pay for them—but I can, though," and he laid a note for fifty pounds upon the counter, adding, "maybe you'll show me some SHINY stuff now!"
Unable to comprehend the wishes of his customer, the shopman called to his assistance the master of the establishment, who being, I suppose, of quicker apprehension, placed some satins before him.
"I thought the paper would help you find it. I want a gown for my missus. What's the price?"
"Twenty yards at one-ten—thirty pounds. That do, Sir?"
"No; not good enough!" was the energetic reply.
The shrewd shopkeeper quickly fathomed his customer's desires, and now displayed before him a rich orange-coloured satin, which elicited an exclamation of delight.
"Twenty-five yards—couldn't sell less, it's a remnant—at three pounds the yard."
"That's the go!" interrupted the digger, throwing some more notes upon the counter. "My missus was married in a cotton gown, and now she'll have a real gold 'un!"
And seizing the satin from the shopkeeper, he twisted up the portion that had been unrolled for his inspection, placed the whole under his arm, and triumphantly walked out of the shop, little thinking how he had been cheated.