Jest feel of it--soft as a baby's skin.
Halloo! miss, what can I do for you?"
This last to Susan Sharpe, who had set down her basket, and was looking
on.
"Nothing," replied Susan, with asperity.
"Oh, now, don't you say that!" exclaimed this persuasive man; "you do
want suthin'--lots o' things--I kin see it in them air sparklin' eyes o'
your'n. What makes you wear green glasses. See here, I've blue, and
white, and fancy colors, with silver straddles for the nose. Do look at
'em--there's a love!"
Mrs. Oleander laughed, and Mrs. Sharpe so far unbent her austerity as to
kneel down and begin rummaging the miscellaneous articles.
The peddler's quick eye never left her hands; and when he heard the tiny
click of something falling, an intelligent flash shot from him to the
obnoxious green glasses.
"I want a thimble," said Mrs. Sharpe, with phlegm. "I've lost mine. How
much do you ask for these here, mister?"
"Three cents apiece."
Susan paid down the three cents, pocketed the brass thimble, and slowly
rose.
"No more to sell to-day," said the peddler, bundling up with celerity.
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