“The floor-walker stepped up to me and said, ‘What can I do for you?’ ‘I want to buy some dialect,’ said I. ‘Oh, yes; what kind do you want to look at? We have a very large assortment of all kinds. There’s quite a run on Scotch just now; perhaps you’d like to look at some of that.’ ‘No; Swedish is what I’m after,’ I replied. ‘Oh, yes; Miss Jonson, show this gentleman some Swedish dialect.’ “I walked over to Miss Jonson’s department, and she turned and opened a drawer that proved to be empty. ‘Are you all out of it?’ I asked. ‘Ja; but I skall have some to-morrer. A faller from St. Paul he baen haer an’ bought seventy jards.’ “I was disappointed, but as long as I was there I thought I’d look around; so I stepped to the next counter, behind which stood a man who looked as if he had just stepped out of one of Barrie’s novels. ‘Have you Scotch?’ said I. ‘I hae joost that. What’ll ye hae? Hielan’ or lowlan’, reeleegious or profane? I’ve a lairge stock o’ gude auld Scotch wi’ the smell o’ the heather on it; or if ye’re wantin’ some a wee bit shop-worn, I’ll let ye hae that at a lower price. There’s a quantity that Ian Maclaren left oot o’ his last buke.’ I expressed surprise that he had let any escape him, and he said: ‘Hech, mon, dinna ye ken there’s no end to the Scots?’ I felt like telling him that I was sorry there had been a beginning, but I refrained, and he went on: ‘We’re gettin’ airders fra the whole English-sp’akin’ warld for the gude auld tongue. Our manager has airdered a fu’ line of a’ soorts in anticipation of a brisk business, now that McKinley--gude Scotch name, that--is President.’ “I should have liked to stay and see a lot of the Scotch, as it seemed to please the man to talk about his goods; but I wanted to have a look at all the dialects, so I bade him good morning, and stepped to the next department--the negro. “Here an unctuous voice called out: ‘Fo’ de Lawd! Ah don’ b’lieve you’ll pass me widout buyin’. Got ’em all hyah, boss--Sou’ Ca’lina an’ Ten’see an’ Virginny. Tawmas Nelson Page buys a heap er stuff right yer. Dat man sut’n’y got a great haid. He was de fustes’ one ter see how much folks was dyin’ ter git a leetle di’lect er de ra’ht sawt, an’ Ah reckon Ah sol’ him de fus’ yard he evah bo’t.’ “‘Do you sell it by the yard?’ I asked, just to bring him out. ‘Shuah!’ and pulling down a roll of black goods, he unrolled enough dialect to color ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin.’ But I said, ‘I don’t want to buy, uncle; but I’m obliged to you for showing it to me.’ ‘Oh, dat’s all right, boss. No trouble to show goods. Ah reckon yo’ nev’ saw sech a heap er local col’in’ as dat. Hyah! hyah! hyah! We got de goods, an’ any tahm you want to fix up a tale, an’ put in de Queen’s English in black, come yer an’ as’ fer me. Good day, sah.’ And I passed on to the next--Western dialect.