“Well,” says he, “I wouldn’t sell ’em to anybody else so, but seeing it’s you, I don’t care if you take ’em.”
I knew he lied, for he never seen me before in his life. Well, he handed down the biscuits, and I took ’em, and walked round the store a while, to see what else he had to sell. At last, says I:
“Mister, have you got any good cider?”
Says he “Yes, as good as ever ye see.”
“Well,” says I, “what do you ax a glass for it?”
“Two cents,” says he.
“Well,” says I, “seems to me I feel more dry than I do hungry now. Ain’t you a mind to take these ere biscuits again and give me a glass of cider?” and says he:
“I don’t care if I do.”
So he took and laid ’em on the shelf again, and poured out a glass of cider. I took the cider and drinkt it down, and to tell the truth, it was capital good cider. Then says I:
“I guess it’s time for me to be a-going,” and I stept along towards the door; but says he: