"Mr. Smith," said Myrtilla, "perhaps is not actually ugly, and, if properly dressed, might look tolerably; but he is too meek and too weak. I wasted much time in trying to entertain him, as I sat under the tree; but he only looked down and simpered, and scarcely ventured a word in reply. One thing is certain, I shall take no further account of him." "Now, Myrtilla, it's a shame, to set your face against the poor man in this way. I dare say he is very good." "That is always said of stupid people." "No doubt it would brighten him wonderfully, if you were to dance with him when the ball begins." "Dance!" said Myrtilla, "dance with _him_. Do you suppose he knows either a step or a figure? No, no! I shall take care never to exhibit myself as Mr. Smith's partner, and I beg of you, Aunt Quimby, on no account to hint such a thing to him. Besides, I am already engaged three sets deep," and she ran away, on seeing that Mr. Smith was approaching. "Well, Mr. Smith," said the old lady, "have you been looking at the shows of the place? And now the greatest show of all has arrived--the Baron of Clinkanbeg. Have you seen him?" "I believe I have," replied Mr. Smith. "You wander about like a lost sheep, Mr. Smith," said Aunt Quimby, protectingly, "and look as if you had not a word to throw at a dog; so sit down and talk to _me_. There's a dead log for you. And now you shan't stir another step till dinner-time." Mr. Smith seated himself on the dead log, and Mrs. Quimby proceeded: "I wish, though, we could find places a little nearer to the baron and his ladies, and hear them talk. Till to-day, I never heard a nobleman speak in my life, having had no chance. But, after all, I dare say they have voices much like other people. Did you ever happen to hear any of them talk, when you lived in England?" "Once or twice, I believe," said Mr. Smith. "Of course--excuse me, Mr. Smith--but, of course, they didn't speak to _you_?" "If I recollect rightly, they chanced to have occasion to do so." "On business, I suppose. Do noblemen go to shops themselves and buy their own things? Mr. Smith, just please to tell me what line you are in." Mr. Smith looked very red, and cast down his eyes. "I am in the tin line," said he, after a pause. "The tin line! Well, never mind; though, to be sure, I did not expect you were a tinner. Perhaps you do a little also in the japan way?" "No," replied Mr. Smith, magnanimously, "I deal in nothing but tin, plain tin!" "Well, if you think of opening a shop in Philadelphia, I am pretty sure Billy Fairfowl will give you his custom; and I'll try to get Mrs. Pattypan and Mrs. Kettleworth to buy all their tins of you." Mr. Smith bowed his head in thankfulness. "One thing I'm sure of," continued Aunt Quimby, "you'll never be the least above your business. And, I dare say, after you get used to our American ways, and a little more acquainted with our people, you'll be able to take courage and hold up your head, and look about quite pert."