‘Why, pretty well, John,’ he returned, with the distraught air of a man who was casting about for the Philosopher’s stone, at least. ‘Pretty much so. There’s rather a run on Noah’s Arks at present. I could have wished to improve upon the Family, but I don’t see how it’s to be done at the price. It would be a satisfaction to one’s mind, to make it clearer which was Shems and Hams, and which was Wives. Flies an’t on that scale neither, as compared with elephants you know! Ah! well! Have you got anything in the parcel line for me, John?’ The Carrier put his hand into a pocket of the coat he had taken off; and brought out, carefully preserved in moss and paper, a tiny flower-pot. ‘There it is!’ he said, adjusting it with great care. ‘Not so much as a leaf damaged. Full of buds!’ Caleb’s dull eye brightened, as he took it, and thanked him. ‘Dear, Caleb,’ said the Carrier. ‘Very dear at this season.’ ‘Never mind that. It would be cheap to me, whatever it cost,’ returned the little man. ‘Anything else, John?’ ‘A small box,’ replied the Carrier. ‘Here you are!’ ‘“For Caleb Plummer,”’ said the little man, spelling out the direction. ‘“With Cash.” With Cash, John? I don’t think it’s for me.’ ‘With Care,’ returned the Carrier, looking over his shoulder. ‘Where do you make out cash?’ ‘Oh! To be sure!’ said Caleb. ‘It’s all right. With care! Yes, yes; that’s mine. It might have been with cash, indeed, if my dear Boy in the Golden South Americas had lived, John. You loved him like a son; didn’t you? You needn’t say you did. _I_ know, of course. “Caleb Plummer. With care.” Yes, yes, it’s all right. It’s a box of dolls’ eyes for my daughter’s work. I wish it was her own sight in a box, John.’ ‘I wish it was, or could be!’ cried the Carrier. ‘Thank’ee,’ said the little man. ‘You speak very hearty. To think that she should never see the Dolls—and them a-staring at her, so bold, all day long! That’s where it cuts. What’s the damage, John?’ ‘I’ll damage you,’ said John, ‘if you inquire. Dot! Very near?’ ‘Well! it’s like you to say so,’ observed the little man. ‘It’s your kind way. Let me see. I think that’s all.’ ‘I think not,’ said the Carrier. ‘Try again.’ ‘Something for our Governor, eh?’ said Caleb, after pondering a little while. ‘To be sure. That’s what I came for; but my head’s so running on them Arks and things! He hasn’t been here, has he?’ ‘Not he,’ returned the Carrier. ‘He’s too busy, courting.’ ‘He’s coming round though,’ said Caleb; ‘for he told me to keep on the near side of the road going home, and it was ten to one he’d take me up. I had better go, by the bye.—You couldn’t have the goodness to let me pinch Boxer’s tail, Mum, for half a moment, could you?’ ‘Why, Caleb! what a question!’