That was the decision which the pedler had been looking for with all imaginable desire, and now no time was to be lost—and none, indeed, was lost.
“Follow me,” said the woman, rising and leading the way to an outer room, where was standing a cask with about a bushel of flaxseed, which she said had been there time out of mind. Her husband had often wished it away, and now the pedler might take it.
“All right,” said the pedler, “and at what price?”
“Three dollars,” replied the woman—it was double the price of clean fresh seed.
“Agreed,” said the pedler, his mind running over the loss he must sustain on this basis; but loss or no loss, he was glad to sell a clock.
“What next, madam?” inquired the pedler.
“Well,” said the woman, beginning fairly to exult at the good bargain she was making, and even luxuriating in the thought, as how her husband would himself be pleased at her skill in bargain-making, “we’ve got a calf you may take.”
“A what?” asked the pedler, a cold shudder following hard on the annunciation.
“A calf, sir,” repeated the woman, “you said you would take any thing we had to spare.”
“Right, right,” said the pedler, recovering himself as well as he could, “a calf—O yes, all the same, that is, nothing amiss by way of trade in this world; turn it to account, I dare say.”