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.
