"Certainly! Brave fellows! Show me that splendid fabric that shines like cloth of gold." "This, my young lady, this is a real, genuine China silk. I bought it myself in my last cruise in the streets of Shanghai, where the long-legged chickens----" "And fast young men come from! I know the place! I've been along there!" interrupted Capitola, her gray eyes glittering with mischief. "This you will perceive, young lady, is an article that cannot be purchased anywhere except----" "From the manufactory of foreign goods in the city of New York, or from their traveling agents!" "Oh, my dear young lady, how you wrong me! This article came from----" "The factory of Messrs. Hocus & Pocus, corner of Can't and Come-it Street, City of Gotham!" "Oh, my dear young lady----" "Look here, my brave buccaneer, I know all about it! I told you I'd been along there!" said the girl, and, turning to Mrs. Condiment, she said. "See here, my dear, good soul, if you want to buy that 'India' silk that you are looking at so longingly, you may do it with a safe conscience! True, it never passed through the custom house--because it was made in New York. I know all about it! All these 'foreign goods' are manufactured at the north and sent by agents all over the country. These agents dress and talk like sailors and assume a mysterious manner on purpose to be suspected of smuggling, because they know well enough fine ladies will buy much quicker and pay much more if they only fancy they are cheating Uncle Sam in buying foreign goods from a smuggler at half price." "So, then, you are not a smuggler, after all!" said Mrs. Condiment, looking almost regretfully at the sailor. "Why, ma'am, you know I told you you were accusing me wrongfully." "Well, but really, now, there was something about you that looked sort of suspicious." "What did I tell you? A look put on on purpose," said Cap. "Well, he knows that if he wanted to pass for a smuggler, it didn't take here," said Mrs. Condiment. "No, that it didn't!" muttered the object of these commentaries. "Well, my good man, since you are, after all, an honest peddler, just hand me that silk and don't ask me an unreasonable price for it, because I'm a judge of silks and I won't pay more than it is worth," said the old lady. "Madam, I leave it to your own conscience! You shall give me just what you think it's worth." "Humph! that's too fair by half! I begin to think this fellow is worse than he seems!" said Capitola to herself. After a little hesitation a price was agreed upon and the dress bought. Then the servants received permission to invest their little change in ribbons, handkerchiefs, tobacco, snuff, or whatever they thought they needed. When the purchases were all made and the peddler had done up his diminished pack and replaced his hat upon his head and was preparing to leave, Mrs. Condiment said: