happen to come to his father's house
to ask charity. Ned's father, though not rich, gave him pocket money,
that Ned might be able to give for himself if he had the inclination so
to do. Well, it so happened that neither charity, nor sugar-plums, nor
any other sweet thing had taken off Ned's money; he had as much as
seventy-five cents in his pocket, and, for the want of something better
to do, he went into a shop, called, in the country town in which they
lived, a 'Variety Shop.'

'Variety Shop' was a just and proper name for such an assemblage of
every thing ever devised for the convenience and inconvenience of human
beings. There were caps after Parisian fashions for ladies, and there,
not far off, were horse nets and blankets. There were collars after the
newest patterns for gentlemen, and yokes for oxen. There were corsets
and Noah's arks, salt fish and sugar almonds, Chinese Joshes and Little
Samuels, accordeons and fish horns, almanacs, Joe Millers, and Bibles,
toothpicks and churns, silver thimbles and wash tubs, penknives,
tweezers and pickaxes, Adams and Eves in sugar, and Napoleons in brass.
In short, what was there not in that shop?

Ned entered, and his eyes were dazzled with the show and the variety.
He had some money in his pocket, and spend it now he began to think he
must; the fire burned very hot in that little pocket of his, it must be
put out. Somewhere or other it must go, that troublesome seventy-five
cents.

Now what did Ned want of toothpicks, or churns, or horse blankets, or
collars, or caps, or yokes, or thimbles, or tubs? A little Samuel his
aunt had given him. A Chinese Josh had a charm for him. He would look
at it.

The shopman, who had once been a pedler, saw the state of things with
Ned, and resolved to relieve him of that burning trouble in his pocket,
if possible. The man was an honest fellow, and meant to give Ned his
money's worth. But an exchange was no robbery, and he was convinced
that it would be better for both sides if something in his Variety Shop
should go to Ned, and Ned's money should go into the money drawer.

After Ned had looked some time at the Josh, and had half made up his
mind to take it, and had motioned away all the sugar monsters and
Noah's arks and bronze Napoleons and even the penknives, the shopman
said, "You have not looked at my fancy fowls, young gentleman; I should
like you would see them before you decide what you will have of my
variety this morning. Th