"Dat ish a very doubtful vay of doing pisness," he remarked. "I cannot
do as you ask."

"Consider, sir," she replied. "The amount I ask you to credit me for
is but small, and even if you should not get paid (which I am certain
you will) the loss cannot be felt by a man of your wealth."

"Dat makes no differenish. I can't give you credit. It ish against my
rules, and if I proke tem for you I vill have to do so for every
body."

Mrs. Wentworth's heart sank within her at the determined manner in
which he expressed his refusal. Without replying she moved towards the
door, and was about to leave the room when she thought of the
bedstead, on the sale of which she now depended. He may loan money on
it she thought, and she returned to the side of his desk. He looked up
at her impatiently.

"Vell," he remarked, frowning as he uttered the single word.

"As you won't give me credit," said Mrs. Wentworth, "I thought you may
be willing to loan me some money if I gave a security for its
payment."

"Vat kind of security?" he enquired.

"I have, at my room, a bedstead I purchased from you some time ago,"
she replied. "Will you lend a small sum of money on it?"

"No" he answered. "I am not a pawnbroker."

"But you might accommodate a destitute mother," remarked Mrs.
Wentworth. "You have refused to give me credit, and now I ask you to
loan me a small sum of money, for the payment of which I offer
security."

"I cannot do it," he answered. "Ven I says a ting I means it."

"Will you buy the bedstead then?" asked Mrs. Wentworth in despair.

"Vat can I do mit it?" he enquired.

"Why you can sell again," replied Mrs. Wentworth. "It will always find
a purchaser, particularly now that the price of everything has
increased so largely."

"Veil, I vill puy te pedstead," he said, and then enquired: "How much
monish do you vant for it?"

"What will you give me?" she asked.

"I vill give you forty tollars for it," he replied.

"It must be worth more than that," she remarked. "The price of
everything is so increased that it appears to me as if the bedstead
should command a higher price than that offered by you."

"Shust as you like, my goot voman," Mr. Swartz remarked, shrugging his
shoulders. "If you vant at mine price, all veil and goot; if not, you
can leave it alone. I only puy te piece of furniture to accommodate
you, and you should pe tankful."

"I suppose I will be obliged to take your price," replied Mrs.
Wentworth,