I will pay thee a good price, man: don’t struggle thus? The penknife, Will!
O Lord, cried Joseph, struggling still more and more: and out comes Will’s pruning-knife; for the rascal is a gardener in the country. I have only this, Sir.
The best in the world to launch a gum. D⸺n the fellow, why dost struggle thus?
Master and Mistress Smith being afraid, I suppose, that I had a design upon Joseph’s throat, because he was their champion, (and this, indeed, made me take the more notice of him), coming towards me with countenances tragic-comical, I let him go.
I only wanted, said I, to take out two or three of this rascal’s broad teeth, to put them into my servant’s jaws—and I would have paid him his price for them.—I would by my soul, Joseph.
Joseph shook his ears; and with both hands stroked down, smooth as it would lie, his bushy hair; and looked at me as if he knew not whether he should laugh or be angry: but, after a stupid stare or two, stalked off to the other end of the shop, nodding his head at me as he went, still stroking down his hair; and took his stand by his master, facing about and muttering, that I was plaguey strong in the arms, and he thought would have throttled him. Then folding his arms, and shaking his bristled head, added, ’twas well I was a gentleman, or he would not have taken such an affront.
I demanded where their rappee was? the good woman pointed to the place; and I took up a scallop-shell of it, refusing to let her weigh it, and filled my box. And now, Mrs. Smith, said I, where are your gloves?
She showed me; and I chose four pair of them, and set Joseph, who looked as if he wanted to be taken notice of again, to open the fingers.
A female customer, who had been gaping at the door, came in for some Scots snuff; and I would serve her. The wench was plaguey homely; and I told her so; or else, I said, I would have treated her. She, in anger, (no woman is homely in her own opinion), threw down her penny; and I put it in my pocket.
Just then, turning my eye to the door, I saw a pretty, genteel lady, with a footman after her, peeping in with a What’s the matter, good folks? to the starers; and I ran to her from behind the compter, and, as she was making off, took her hand, and drew her into the shop; begging that she would be my customer; for that I had but just begun trade.
What do you sell, Sir? said she, smiling; but a little surprised.
Tapes, ribbons, silk laces, pins, and needles; for I am a pedlar: powder, patches, wash-balls, stockings, garters, snuffs, and pin cushions—Don’t we, goody Smith?
So in I gently drew her to the compter, running behind it myself, with an air of great dilingence and obligingness. I have excellent gloves and wash-balls, Madam: rappee, Scots, Portugal, and all sorts of snuff.
Well, said she, in a very good humour, I’ll encourage a young beginner for once. Here, Andrew, (to her footman), you want a pair of gloves, don’t you?
I took down a parcel of gloves, which Mrs. Smith pointed to, and came round to the fellow to fit them on myself.
No matter for opening them, said I: thy fingers, friend, are as stiff as drumsticks. Push!—Thou’rt an awkward dog! I wonder such a pretty lady will be followed by such a clumsy varlet.
The fellow had no strength for laughing: and Joseph was mightily pleased, in hopes, I suppose, I would borrow a few of Andrew’s teeth, to keep him in countenance: and, father and mother Smith, like all the world, as the jest was turned from themselves, seemed diverted with the humour.
The fellow said the gloves were too little.
Thrust, and be d⸺d to thee, said I: why, fellow, thou hast not the strength of a cat.
Sir, Sir, said he, laughing, I shall hurt your Honour’s side.
D⸺n thee, thrust I say.
He did; and burst out the sides of the glove.
Will said I, where’s thy pruning-knife? By my soul, friend, I had a good mind to pare thy cursed paws. But come, here’s a larger pair: try them, when thou gettest home; and let thy sweetheart, if thou hast one, mend the other, so take both.
The lady laughed at the humour; as did my fellow, and Mrs. Smith, and Joseph: even John laughed, though he seemed by the force put upon his countenance to be but half pleased with me neither.
Madam, said I, and stepped behind the compter, bowing over it, now I hope you will buy something for yourself. Nobody shall use you better, nor sell you cheaper.
Come, said she, give me sixpenny worth of Portugal snuff.
They showed me where it was, and I served her; and said, when she would have paid me, I took nothing at my opening.
If I treated her footman, she told me, I should not treat her.
Well, with all my heart, said I: ’tis not for us tradesmen to be saucy—Is it, Mrs. Smith?
I put her sixpence in my pocket; and, seizing her hand, took notice to her of the crowd that had gathered about the door, and besought her to walk into the back-shop with me.
She struggled her hand out of mine, and would stay no longer.
So I bowed, and bid her kindly welcome, and thanked her, and hoped I should have her custom another time.
She went away smiling; and Andrew after her; who made me a fine bow.
I began to be out of countenance at the crowd, which thickened apace; and bid Will order the chair to the door.
Well, Mrs. Smith, with a grave air, I am heartily sorry Miss Harlowe is abroad. You don’t tell me where she is?
Indeed, Sir, I cannot.
You will not, you mean.—She could have no notion of my coming. I
