"Tis tew much. You had better chearge twenty-five cents. If you dew, you'll have a pretty good house. If you make it twelve and a half cents, you'll have a smasher. If, mister, you'll lower that agin to six and a quarter cents, you'll have to take a field,--there ain't a house would hold 'em." After a pause, scratching his head, and shuffling with his feet, "I s'pose you ginnerally give the profession tickets?"
"Sometimes."
"I'm a leetle in your line myself. Although I'm a shoe-maker by trade, I leads the first Presbyterian choir upon the hill. I should like to have you come up, if you stay long enough."
"As that is the case, perhaps you can tell me if I am likely to have a good house to-night?"
"I kind a reckon as how you will; that is, if you don't chearge tew much."
"Where shall I get the best room?"
"Well, I guess, you had better try the old meetin' house."
"Thank you. Allow me, sir, to present you with a ticket." I now thought that I had got rid of him, and amply paid him for the information I had received. The ticket was for a single admission. He took it, turned it slowly round, held it close to his eyes, spelt it carefully over, and then stared at me. "What next?" thought I.
"There's my wife. Well--I s'pose she'd like to come in."
"You wish me to give you a double ticket?"