"Is this, then, the establishment of the illustrious Mr. Cheeseman?"
The time was yet early, and the gentleman who put this question was in
riding dress. The worthy tradesman looked at him, and the rosy hue upon
his cheeks was marbled with a paler tint.
"This is the shop of the 'umble James Cheeseman," he answered, but not
with the alacrity of business. "All things good that are in season, and
nothing kept unseasonable. With what can I have the honor of serving
you, sir?"
"With a little talk." The stranger's manner was not unpleasantly
contemptuous, but lofty, and such as the English shopman loves, and
calls "aristocratic."
"To talk with a gentleman is a pleasure as well as an honour," said
Cheeseman.
"But not in this public establishment." The visitor waved both hands as
he spoke, in a style not then common with Englishmen--though they are
learning eloquent gesticulation now. "It is fine, Mr. Cheeseman; but it
is not--bah, I forget your English words."
"It is fine, sir, as you are good enough to observe"--the humble James
Cheeseman was proud of his shop--"but not, as you remarked, altogether
private. That can hardly be expected, where business is conducted to
suit universal requirements. Polly, my dear, if your mother can spare
you, come and take my place at the desk a few minutes. I have business
inside with this gentleman. You may sell almost anything, except butter.
If any one wants that, they must wait till I come back.
Pages:
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126