`See what there is over measure!' he said, holding forth the extra half yard, while Mrs Glegg was busy examining the damaged yard and throwing her head back to see how far the fault would be lost on a distant view.
`I'll give you six shilling for it,' she said, throwing it down with the air of a person who mentions an ultimatum.
`Didn't I tell you, now, mum, as it 'ud hurt your feelings to look at my pack? That damaged bit's turned your stomach now, I see it has,' said Bob, wrapping the muslim up with the utmost quickness, and apparently about to fasten up his pack.`You're used to seein' a different sort o' article carried by packmen, when you lived at the Stone House.Packs is come down i' the world, I told you that: my goods are for common folks.Mrs Pepper 'ull give me ten shillin' for that muslin, an' be sorry as I didn't ask her more.Such articles answer i' the wearin' - they keep their colour till the threads melt away i' the wash-tub, an' that won't be while I 'm a young un.'
`Well, seven shilling,' said Mrs Glegg.
`Put it out o' your mind, mum, now do,' said Bob.`Here's a bit o' net, then, for you to look at before I tie my pack: just for you to see what my trade's come to: spotted and sprigged, you see, beautiful, but yallow--'s been lyin' by an' got the wrong colour.I could niver ha' bought such net, if it hadn't been yallow.Lors, it's took me a deal o' study to know the vally o' such articles: when I begun to carry a pack I was as ignirant as a pig - net or calico was all the same to me.I thought them things the most vally as was the thickest.I was took in dreadful - for I'm a strait-forrard chap - up to no tricks, mum.I can on'y say my nose is my own, for if I went beyond, I should lose myself pretty quick.An' I gev five an' eightpence for that piece o' net - if I was to tell y' anything else I should be tellin' you fibs: an' five an' eightpence I shall ask for it - not a penny more - for it's a woman's article, an' I like to 'commodate the women.Five an' eightpence for six yards - as cheap as if it was only the dirt on it was paid for.'
`I don't mind having three yards of it,' said Mrs Glegg.
`Why, there's but six altogether,' said Bob - `no, mum, it isn't worth your while: you can go to the shop tomorrow an' get the same pattern ready whitened.It's on'y three times the money - what's that to a lady like you?' He gave an emphatic tie to his bundle.
`Come, lay me out that muslin,' said Mrs Glegg.`Here's eight shilling for it.'
`You will be jokin', mum,' said Bob, looking up with a laughing face.`I see'd you was a pleasant lady, when I fust come to the winder.'
`Well, put it me out,' said Mrs Glegg, peremptorily.
`But if I let you have it for ten shillin', mum, you'll be so good as not tell nobody.I should be a laughin'-stock - the trade, 'ud hoot me, if they knowed it.I'm obliged to make believe as I ask more nor I do for my goods, else they'd find out I war a flat.I'm glad you don't insist upo' buyin' the net, for then I should ha' lost my two best bargains for Mrs Pepper o' Fibb's End - an' she's a rare customer.'
`Let me look at the net again,' said Mrs Glegg, yearning after the cheap spots and sprigs now they were vanishing.
