less you're a mechanic,
you wouldn't understand about 'em anyways. All the parts that go with
any car are on ours, or it wouldn't work--that's understood. However,
as I said before, I ain't gonna take up your time. I know how you New
Yorkers do business, and you've probably made your mind up already.
You big men are all zip!--like that. Mind made up and nothin' can
change you. Even if you do miss somethin' good now and then, you don't
mind because you have the satisfaction of bein' known as a quick
thinker. We just got in a new consignment of cars to-day and if you're
interested our place is at 1346 Broadway. Well, good-day, sir!" he
winds up, reachin' for his hat.

"Wait!" says Munson, takin' off his glasses and wipin' 'em. "You're a
new one on me, son! So you admit you haven't got the greatest auto
that was ever made, eh?" he chuckles. "By Peter! That sounds strange
after all the talk I been listening to to-day. If your car is as
honest as you seem to be, it's all right!" He sits lookin' off in the
air, tappin' the desk with the pencil again.

Alex nudges me and we start for the door. Halfway he stops and looks
at a photo that's framed over the desk. It's a picture of a barn, some
chickens and a couple of cows.

"Right fine landscape, that!" chirps Alex to Munson. "Makes a feller
like me homesick to look at it. Them are sure fine Jerseys, too--and
say, see them pullets, would you!"

"That's my little farm down on Long Island," says Munson, throwin' out
his chest. "I suppose that makes you laugh, eh? Big, grown New Yorker
having a farm, eh?"

"Mister," says Alex, sadly, "it don't make _me_ laugh! I was raised on
a farm in Vermont and--"

"That so?" cuts in Munson, lookin' interested. "Country boy, eh?"

"Yep," goes on Alex. "Now, speakin' of them pullets there--if you'd
try 'em on a straight diet of bran and potatoes--pound of each--they'll
fatten up quicker."

"Yes?" pipes Munson, brightenin' up some more. "Well, well!
And--hmph! Thanks, Mister Hanley, I'll make a note of that.
Now--eh--sit down a minute! I don't want to take your time, but--eh,
what did you find best back home for saving the young chicks? What
foods--"

"I'll just leave you a few little rules," says Alex, his eyes
glitterin', as he rams his elbow a mile in my ribs. "I got to call on
another department store this afternoon, where I'm almost certain to
take an order and--"

"Young man!" Munson shuts him off, "I'