Hans paused in some doubt, seeing the blame of the failure of the knife laid so fully upon his guiltless shoulders. Boston gave him no time to think, but threw open his pack. “Now, I’ll tell you what I mean to do. You don’t deserve it; but I will do a violence to my conscience, and do something for you. Keep your fingers to yourself and feast your eyes upon that.” Here he produced a knife somewhat better than the one which Hans had returned. “Now, I’ll tell you what I will do. ’Tisn’t right, I know it; ’tisn’t behaving properly to those who bought the last lot I had, but you may have _that_ knife for four shillings sterling. You stare. I don’t wonder, for that knife ought to bring fully _ten_ shillings. It’s worth it, if it’s worth a farthing; but what can I do? I must put my goods down to you fellows or you won’t look at them. I am making myself a poor man for your sakes.” “Vour shilling. Dat ish too mooch, by Shoseph!” “Too much! I tell you I am _giving_ the knife away—absolutely _giving_ it away. That knife you bought before was a _cheap_ knife, I allow that; but it was _sold_ cheap; but I lose on this knife if I sell it at six shillings, and here I offer it to you at four. Many a time I am tempted to shut up my pack and tramp through the woods no more; but when I think that it will be impossible for you to get along without me, I repent, and sacrifice my own interests for your good. I can’t help it, if I am soft-hearted, it’s one of my little failings. I sell below cost because I hate to be hard upon poor men.” Hans took the knife in his hands and begun to open and shut the bright blade. He had been beaten again and again by this same peddler, and did not care to be taken in once more. The polished blade shone like glass in the sunlight. “Dat ish goot knife, eh?” “Good! You’d better believe it’s good. Why, I know a man down to Hartford has got one of them there knives, and what do you reckon he does with it? You can’t tell, scarcely. No, ’tain’t probable you can. Then _I’ll_ tell you. He uses it for an _ax_, and he can cut down a good-sized maple with it about as soon as you cut a cat-tail down with one of your clumsy axes. I don’t say that _this_ is as good a knife as _that_. Probably ’tain’t; but it came out of the same mold.” “Big price, dat. Sure dis is goot knife, eh? You sell me bad knife two, t’ree, vour dimes. Dat ish pad—dat is worser as pad. Vour shillings?”