He had reached a house at which he proposed to offer "The Wayfarer" for sale. His heart went pit pat, pit pat, and he paused before the door.
"Now or never!" exclaimed he, as he swung open the garden gate, and made his way up to the door.
He felt some misgivings. It was so new and strange to him that he could hardly muster sufficient resolution to proceed farther. But his irresolution was of only a moment's duration.
"Now or never!" and he gave a vigorous knock at the door.
It was opened by an elderly lady, whose physiognomy did not promise much.
"Good morning, ma'am. Can I sell you a copy of 'The Wayfarer' to-day? a new book, just published."
"No; I don't want none of your books. There's more pedlers round the country now than you could shake a stick at in a month," replied the old lady, petulantly.
"It is a very interesting book, ma'am; has an excellent moral." Bobby had read the preface, as I before remarked. "It will suit you, ma'am; for you look just like a lady who wants to read something with a moral."
Bravo, Bobby! The lady concluded that her face had a moral expression, and she was pleased with the idea.
"Let me see it;" and she asked Bobby to walk in and be seated, while she went for her spectacles.