THE PEDLAR'S LATEST.

Dunstan Times, Issue 2489, 12 July 1909, Page 6

THE PEDLAR'S LATEST.

“ Homin’, madam. Want any combs, brushes, hair-pins, table-cloths, towels, lead pencils, tooth-brushes, or chewing gum ?” The pedlar put his hat on the floor, and opened his pack, as he asked the question. “No, sir, said the woman sharply; and I don’t want any dime novels, not chalk eggs, nor five-cent calico, nor tooth powder, nor pig-in-clover puzzles, nor lamp-wicks, nor eye-salves, nor cornplasters, nor liquid blue.” “Just so. And I suppose it’s no use to ask whether you’d like to look at a bottle of wrinkle fillin’ for old complexions ?” “Not a bit, sir; and I know you haven’t got any books on good manners, or you’d read ’em yourself occasionally.” “None of the people I call on wmuld appreciate ’em, madam. And now, if you think you have no use for the celebrated invisible ear-trumpet that you can fasten in your kitchen window and hear everything your neighbours say, or the famous long-range khdicn telescope, that will bring every back yard within half a mile of your house so close to you that you can almost smell the pipes the men arc smoking’ on the back stoops, I’ll be gnin’.” “ Hold on !” exclaimsd the woman of the house. I don’t know but I would like to buy those two articles if they don’t cost 100 much.” “All right, madam,” replied the pedlar. If I see any chap that’s got ’em to sell I’ll steer him round this way. Hornin’, madam.* He picked up his hat, put it on his head sidewise, and went down the steps whistling “Little Annie Rooney” leaving a large, crooked-nosed, raw-boned woman standing on the porch, gasping in inarticulate rage, —Pittsburgh Despatch.