Having occasion to make a few purchases in the linen drapery line, I
entered a good establishment in Collins Street for that purpose. It was
before noon, for later in the day the shops are so full that to get a
trifling order attended to would be almost a miracle. There was only
one customer in the shop, who was standing beside the counter, gazing
with extreme dissatisfaction upon a quantity of goods of various
colours and materials that lay there for his inspection. He was
a rough-looking customer enough, and the appearance of his hands gave
strong indication that the pickaxe and spade were among the last tools
he had handled.
"It's a SHINY thing that I want," he was saying as I entered.
"These are what we should call shining goods," said the shopman, as he
held up the silks, alpacas, &c., to the light.
"They're not the SHINY sort that I want," pursued the digger,
half-doggedly, half-angrily. "I'll find another shop; I guess you won't
show your best goods to me - you think, mayhap, I can't pay for them - but
I can, though," and he laid a note for fifty pounds upon the counter,
adding, "maybe you'll show me some SHINY stuff now!"
Unable to comprehend the wishes of his customer, the shopman called to
his assistance the master of the establishment, who being, I suppose,
of quicker apprehension, placed some satins before him.
"I thought the paper would help you find it. I want a gown for my
missus. What's the price?"
"Twenty yards at one-ten - thirty pounds. That do, Sir?"
"No; not good enough!" was the energetic reply.
The shrewd shopkeeper quickly fathomed his customer's desires, and now
displayed before him a rich orange-coloured satin, which elicited an
exclamation of delight.
"Twenty-five yards - couldn't sell less, it's a remnant - at three pounds
the yard."
"That's the go!" interrupted the digger, throwing some more notes upon
the counter. "My missus was married in a cotton gown, and now she'll
have a real gold 'un!"
And seizing the satin from the shopkeeper, he twisted up the portion
that had been unrolled for his inspection, placed the whole under his
arm, and triumphantly walked out of the shop, little thinking how he
had been cheated.
"A 'lucky digger' that," observed the shopman, as he attended to my
wants.
I could not forbear a smile, for I pictured to myself the digger's wife
mixing a damper with the sleeves of her dazzling satin dress tucked up
above her elbows.
A few days after, a heavy shower drove me to take shelter in a
pastry-cook's, where, under the pretence of eating a bun, I escaped a
good drenching. Hardly had I been seated five minutes, when a
sailor-looking personage entered, and addressed the shopwoman with:
"I'm agoing to be spliced to-morrow, young woman; show us some large
wedding-cakes."
The largest (which was but a small one) was placed before him, and
eighteen pounds demanded for it.
