"Your name is Miss Wheeler, I believe," said the hatter, who was annoyed by the difficulty he met with in being understood. "It is, sir." "Ah! very well. Is there old and young Russia in the house?" "I believe there is," said Mary, surprised at the familiar manner in which he spoke of her mother and sister, who were present. "What is the price of old Russia per pound?" asked the hatter. "I believe, sir, that old Rushia is not for sale," replied Mary, indignantly. "Well, what do you ask for young Russia?" pursued the hatter. "Sir," said Miss Rushia the younger, springing to her feet, "do you come here to insult defenceless females? If you do, sir, our brother, who is in the garden, will punish you as you deserve." "Ladies!" exclaimed the hatter, in astonishment, "what on earth have I done to offend you? I came here on a business matter. I want to buy some Russia. I was told you had old and young Russia in the house. Indeed, this young lady just stated such to be the fact, but she says the old Russia is not for sale. Now, if I can buy the young Russia I want to do so--but if that can't be done, please to say so, and I will trouble you no further." "Mother, open the door and let this man go out; he is undoubtedly crazy," said Miss Mary. "By thunder! I believe I shall be if I remain here long," exclaimed the hatter, considerably excited. "I wonder if folks never do business in these parts, that you think a man is crazy if he attempts such a thing?" "Business! poor man!" said Mary soothingly, approaching the door. "I am not a poor man, madam," replied the hatter. "My name is Walter Dibble; I carry on hatting extensively in Danbury; I came to Grassy Plain to buy fur, and have purchased some 'beaver' and 'cony,' and now it seems I am to be called 'crazy' and a 'poor man,' because I want to buy a little 'Russia' to make up my assortment." The ladies began to open their eyes; they saw that Mr. Dibble was quite in earnest, and his explanation threw considerable light upon the subject. "Who sent you here?" asked sister Mary. "The clerk at the opposite store," was the reply. "He is a wicked young fellow for making all this trouble," said the old lady; "he has been doing this for a joke." "A joke!" exclaimed Dibble, in surprise, "have you no Russia, then?" "My name is Jerusha, and so is my daughter's," said Mrs. Wheeler, "and that, I suppose, is what he meant by telling you of old and young Rushia." Mr. Dibble, without more words, left the house and made for the store. "You young villain!" he cried, as he entered, "what did you mean by sending me over there to buy Russia?" "I didn't," answered the young villain, with a perfectly solemn face, "I thought you were a widower or a bachelor who wanted to marry Rushia." "You lie," said the discomfited Dibble, laughing in spite of himself; "but never mind, I'll pay you off some day." And gathering up his furs he departed.