fellow to sell any thing
in this shop."

"Then I hope to sell each of you a book," added Bobby, laughing at the
badinage of the shoemaker.

Opening his valise he took out three copies of his book, and politely
handed one to each of the men.

"It isn't every book pedler that comes along who offers you such a work
as that. 'The Wayfarer' is decidedly _the_ book of the season."

"You don't say so!" said the oldest shoemaker, with a laugh. "Every
pedler that comes along uses those words, precisely."

"Do they? They steal my thunder then."

"You are an old one."

"Only thirteen. I was born where they don't fasten the door with a
boiled carrot."

"What do they fasten them with?"

"They don't fasten them at all."

"There are no book pedlers round there, then;" and all the shoemakers
laughed heartily at this smart sally.

"No; they are all shoemakers in our town."

"You can take my hat, boy."

"You will want it to put your head in; but I will take one dollar for
that book instead."

The man laughed, took out his wallet, and handed Bobby the dollar,
probably quite as much because he had a high appreciation of his
smartness, as from any desire to possess the book.

"Won't you take one?" asked Bobby, appealing to another of the men, who
was apparently not more than twenty-four years of age.

"No; I can't read," replied he, roguishly.

"Let your wife read it to you then."

"My wife?"

"Certainly; she knows how to read, I will warrant."

"How do you know I have got a wife?"

"O, well, a fellow as good looking and good natured as you are could
not have resisted till this time."

"Has you, Tom," added the oldest shoemaker.

"I cave in;" and he handed over the dollar, and laid the book upon his
bench.

Bobby looked at the third man with some interest. He had said nothing,
and scarcely heeded the fun which was passing between the little
merchant and his companions. He was apparently absorbed in his
examination of the book. He was a different kind of person from the
others, and Bobby's instinctive knowledge of human nature assured him
that he was not to be gained by flattery or by smart sayings; so he
placed himself in front of him, and patiently waited in silence for him
to complete his examination.

"You will find that he is a hard one," put in one of the others.

Bobby made no reply, and the two men who had bought books resumed their
work. For five minutes our hero stood waiting for the man