“Ain’t it sixty-nine?”
“No.”
“I seem to have sixty-nine fixed awful firm in my head,” protested Elias tenaciously.
Lucy laughed.
“You’ll have to get it out then,” she retorted 177 good-humoredly, “for seventy cents is the market price.”
The firm answer told the shopkeeper that further bickering would be useless.
“Seventy cents then,” he said reluctantly, opening his cash drawer. “It’s robbery, though.”
“You’re not often robbed, Mr. Barnes.”
“Ain’t I? Well, if I ain’t, it’s ’cause folks know better than to try to do me. ’Tain’t often I’m beat in a bargain—only when I’m dealin’ with a pretty woman an’ give her the advantage.” Again he displayed his rows of teeth. “Ladies first is my motto; an’ heiresses——”
“You haven’t paid me for the corn or butter yet,” cut in Lucy impatiently. “Five dozen ears of early corn and ten pounds of print butter.”