Opening his valise he took out three copies of his book, and politely handed one to each of the men.
"It isn't every book pedler that comes along who offers you such a work as that. 'The Wayfarer' is decidedly the book of the season."
"You don't say so!" said the oldest shoemaker, with a laugh. "Every pedler that comes along uses those words, precisely."
"Do they? They steal my thunder then."
"You are an old one."
"Only thirteen. I was born where they don't fasten the door with a boiled carrot."
"What do they fasten them with?"
"They don't fasten them at all."
"There are no book pedlers round there, then;" and all the shoemakers laughed heartily at this smart sally.
"No; they are all shoemakers in our town."