Rochester, and they're too big for him. He can't wear 'em;
but I thought _you_ might be able to wear 'em,' she says. So I tried 'em
on, and they fit like the paper on the wall. How do you like 'em?"

Gizzard gazed enviously at the great flat, liver-shaped shoes his
companion was wearing, and replied, "They're all right, only they're
black. They don't match your suit as good as these here shoes of mine
would."

"They match plenty good enough to suit _me_," Sube assured him; "and
besides, those shoes of yours are too small for me."

"Too small!" howled Gizzard. "Why, you had 'em on jus' a little while
ago!"

"Not both of 'em," replied Sube; "only _one_ of 'em. And that's why I
give it back. Didn't I tell you right then it was too small for me--?"

"Vell, you say coom dree o'clock," said a harsh voice behind them. "I
coom; vat y'vanta sell?"

It was the buyer for Mose Smolenski, Everything New and Second-Hand
Cheap for Cash.

Sube was the first to recover from his astonishment. "Why," he managed
to get out after a struggle, "why, we want to sell all this prope'ty."
He made a sweeping gesture that included not only the clothing
contributed in the name of the "sufferin' Belgiums" but his father's new
lawn-mower, piano-box, garden tools, and a pile of kindling wood.

[Illustration]

The magnitude of the offer aroused the suspicions of the second-hand man
at once. "Dot's a good deal," he muttered; "it's too mooch, altogedder
too mooch."

"Too much?" cried Sube. "How do you know it's too much? We haven't told
you what we wanted yet?"

The second-hand man shook his head many times as he repeated slowly,
"Altogedder too mooch."

"We'll sell it awful cheap," said Sube anxiously.

The buyer continued to shake his head.

"We'll sell it for about half what it's worth."

Still the buyer shook his head.

"We'll sell it for less than that!" cried Sube in desperation. "We'll
sell it for anything! Make us an offer!"

That was enough for the representative of Mose Smolenski; now he _knew_
that something was wrong. "I make you no offers," he said, moving
towards the door; "y't'ink I vanta get ar-r-rested?"

Sube drew back in astonishment. "Arrested?" he gasped. "What for?"

The second-hand man shrugged his shoulders. "Vell, I donno. Mebbe you
buy it. Mebbe you steal it. I donno. I make no offers for dis
t'ings"--he waved a knotted hand towards the interior of the barn--"but
mebbe I buy dem shoes y'got on; how mooch