“You’d better sell yourself,” said a roughish-looking stripling, addressing the pedler. “Quite likely, my man,” responded the pedler. “I lately felt a good deal more like a calf than I do just now. But I’ll sell the calf first, and then think about selling myself. This calf for sale. Who bids?” “Price?” said one. “Twenty-five dollars,” replied the pedler. “What breed?” asked another. “Well, you all see, as for that matter, that he’s _short horns_.” “Very plain matter of fact, that,” said a good-natured, jolly sort of a fellow. “Is he Durham, or what is he?” “That’s more than I know—he’s _short horns_, but whether Durham or Dedham—how can I tell?” “Durham!” exclaimed a prompt, rosy-cheeked fellow, stepping up; “why, you simpleton, don’t you know the value of the creature you are selling—even a bigger simpleton might see with half an eye that he’s Durham; look at his white spots—he’s handsome as a picture.” “Handsome!” retorted another, “I wonder where you see beauty.” “Well,” said another, “never mind for beauty—what’s his name, Mr. Pedler?” “Well,” said the pedler, “I don’t know exactly what to call him. I guess we’ll call him Dromeo.” “Romeo, you fool,” said a voice in the crowd. “Oh, yes, what a mistake—funny enough,” said the pedler. “Romeo, gentlemen, Romeo—who’ll bid?” And now, as in case of the flaxseed, the praises of Romeo went the rounds, till there was even a controversy who should have him. Suffice it to say, a square-built man was the purchaser. The money was paid, even before Romeo was let down on to terra firma. But that operation was now gone through with, and the first result was that the calf fell like a flounder. “O, aint you ashamed of yourself, Romeo,” said the pedler; “come, stand up in the presence of these gentlemen.” Romeo, however, couldn’t find his legs, as they say; and the pedler had to explain and apologize for his want of manners. “He had been a little ailing,” he believed, “but the person of whom I purchased him, said he looked better.” “No wonder if he does ail a little,” said a man who was helping him to stand up, “it’s a long voyage he’s come, and cattles are quite likely to get sick on a voyage.” “That, indeed,” said another, “he looks like as if he’d been very sea-sick—I dare say he was.” “He needs something to eat,” said the pedler, “it’s a good while that he’s been fasting.” “Well,” said the purchaser, with some assurance, and well satisfied with his bargain, “plenty of milk hard by—come, boys, give him a lift into the wagon, and I’ll import him a little further.” Accordingly, some half a dozen hands were soon occupied in raising Romeo into the farmer’s wagon. Meanwhile, the pedler rolled up the bills, and safely deposited them in his pocket-book, which, on returning to its usual place, he said, “One hundred dollars! one hundred dollars for a clock!—a clock sold to Mr. M., of ——! One hundred dollars—that will do!”