Had the pedler ventured to raise his eyes, they would have resembled stars of the first magnitude; but he was too politic to betray his sense of the vantage he was gaining, and therefore rather coolly remarked, “You seem so reluctant, madam, to purchase a clock, that I’m at a loss how to reply. But if you will take one, I’ll put it pretty much at your own price.” “You will?” said she, her countenance relaxing into a sort of smile, mingled with a spice of incredulity. “That’s not a common way with you pedlers.” “O no,” said he, “we live by our trade, and must make a trifle at least now and then; but we must sell, if we don’t make much.” While the pedler was thus remarking, the woman had approached near the clock, and for the purpose, it would seem, of examining it—the pedler hoped with reference to a purchase. And by way of helping on this decision, he opened the clock—displayed its machinery—and cautiously recommended it, by saying, “it’s a handsome piece of furniture, you see—useful—and, with your leave, it occupies just the place for it.” “It looks well,” rejoined the woman, “but—” she paused, “I—” she began, and again stopped. At length, however, she added, “I may not purchase it.” She had laid a more than ordinary emphasis, perhaps unconsciously, on the word _purchase_. “What!” thought the pedler, “does she expect me to _give_ her a clock?” No, he could not give the clock. That would deprive him of an anticipated and now much desired triumph. But matters now stood in such a position as to demand prompt and decisive action. The pedler, therefore, met the emergency like a tactician. “Madam,” said he, “I ask no money for the clock. I am willing to take such articles in payment as you have to spare, and at your own price.” The woman fairly stared. The matter wore a new phase. “I mean just as I say, madam,” said the pedler, observing her apparent surprise. “Just what you have to spare, and at your own price.” “But what do you ask for the clock?” “Fifteen dollars—the small sum of fifteen dollars.” The woman took a seat. For a few minutes she seemed to be abstracted and lost. But at length returning to the subject, she said, “On the terms you propose, I will take the clock.” That was the decision which the pedler had been looking for with all imaginable desire, and now no time was to be lost—and none, indeed, was lost. “Follow me,” said the woman, rising and leading the way to an outer room, where was standing a cask with about a bushel of flaxseed, which she said had been there time out of mind. Her husband had often wished it away, and now the pedler might take it. “All right,” said the pedler, “and at what price?” “Three dollars,” replied the woman—it was double the price of clean fresh seed. “Agreed,” said the pedler, his mind running over the loss he must sustain on this basis; but loss or no loss, he was glad to sell a clock. “What next, madam?” inquired the pedler.