“Eh, but a _damaged_ thing,” said Bob, in a tone of deprecating disgust. “You’d do nothing with it, mum, you’d give it to the cook, I know you would, an’ it ’ud be a pity,—she’d look too much like a lady in it; it’s unbecoming for servants.” “Fetch it, and let me see you measure it,” said Mrs Glegg, authoritatively. Bob obeyed with ostentatious reluctance. “See what there is over measure!” he said, holding forth the extra half-yard, while Mrs Glegg was busy examining the damaged yard, and throwing her head back to see how far the fault would be lost on a distant view. “I’ll give you six shilling for it,” she said, throwing it down with the air of a person who mentions an ultimatum. “Didn’t I tell you now, mum, as it ’ud hurt your feelings to look at my pack? That damaged bit’s turned your stomach now; I see it has,” said Bob, wrapping the muslin up with the utmost quickness, and apparently about to fasten up his pack. “You’re used to seein’ a different sort o’ article carried by packmen, when you lived at the stone house. Packs is come down i’ the world; I told you that; _my_ goods are for common folks. Mrs Pepper ’ull give me ten shillin’ for that muslin, an’ be sorry as I didn’t ask her more. Such articles answer i’ the wearin’,—they keep their colour till the threads melt away i’ the wash-tub, an’ that won’t be while _I’m_ a young un.” “Well, seven shilling,” said Mrs Glegg. “Put it out o’ your mind, mum, now do,” said Bob. “Here’s a bit o’ net, then, for you to look at before I tie up my pack, just for you to see what my trade’s come to,—spotted and sprigged, you see, beautiful but yallow,—’s been lyin’ by an’ got the wrong colour. I could niver ha’ bought such net, if it hadn’t been yallow. Lors, it’s took me a deal o’ study to know the vally o’ such articles; when I begun to carry a pack, I was as ignirant as a pig; net or calico was all the same to me. I thought them things the most vally as was the thickest. I was took in dreadful, for I’m a straightforrard chap,—up to no tricks, mum. I can only say my nose is my own, for if I went beyond, I should lose myself pretty quick. An’ I gev five-an’-eightpence for that piece o’ net,—if I was to tell y’ anything else I should be tellin’ you fibs,—an’ five-an’-eightpence I shall ask of it, not a penny more, for it’s a woman’s article, an’ I like to ’commodate the women. Five-an’-eightpence for six yards,—as cheap as if it was only the dirt on it as was paid for.’” “I don’t mind having three yards of it,’” said Mrs Glegg. “Why, there’s but six altogether,” said Bob. “No, mum, it isn’t worth your while; you can go to the shop to-morrow an’ get the same pattern ready whitened. It’s on’y three times the money; what’s that to a lady like you?” He gave an emphatic tie to his bundle. “Come, lay me out that muslin,” said Mrs Glegg. “Here’s eight shilling for it.”