The clerk was doubtful.
"I'll see," she said. "Oh, Mr. Peabody! Mr. Peabody!"
"Well?" asked a man's voice hidden behind a wall of calicoes. "Well? What is it?"
"Mr. Peabody, have we any cloth called Abraham—"
"Not Abraham Lincoln," Letitia interposed, mildly. "You misunderstood me. I said Lincoln green."
"Same thing," said the clerk, tartly.
Mr. Peabody then emerged smilingly from behind his wall.
"How do you do, Miss Primrose," said he. "What can we do for you this morning?" Letitia carefully repeated her request. He shook his head, while the young clerk smiled triumphantly.
"No," he said. "You must be mistaken. I have never even heard of such a color—and if there was one of that name," he added, with evident pride in his even tones, "I should certainly know of it. We have other greens—"
Letitia flushed.