“Romeo, you fool,” said a voice in the crowd.
“Oh, yes, what a mistake—funny enough,” said the pedler. “Romeo, gentlemen, Romeo—who’ll bid?”
And now, as in case of the flaxseed, the praises of Romeo went the rounds, till there was even a controversy who should have him.
Suffice it to say, a square-built man was the purchaser. The money was paid, even before Romeo was let down on to terra firma. But that operation was now gone through with, and the first result was that the calf fell like a flounder.
“O, aint you ashamed of yourself, Romeo,” said the pedler; “come, stand up in the presence of these gentlemen.”
Romeo, however, couldn’t find his legs, as they say; and the pedler had to explain and apologize for his want of manners. “He had been a little ailing,” he believed, “but the person of whom I purchased him, said he looked better.”
“No wonder if he does ail a little,” said a man who was helping him to stand up, “it’s a long voyage he’s come, and cattles are quite likely to get sick on a voyage.”
“That, indeed,” said another, “he looks like as if he’d been very sea-sick—I dare say he was.”
“He needs something to eat,” said the pedler, “it’s a good while that he’s been fasting.”
“Well,” said the purchaser, with some assurance, and well satisfied with his bargain, “plenty of milk hard by—come, boys, give him a lift into the wagon, and I’ll import him a little further.”