"
"I am sure they could not," I said, gratefully; "and when I have the
guinea to spare, be sure I shall not forget your fee."
Whether it was owing to his medicine, or his advice, or his cheery,
health-giving manner, I have no idea; but that night, when I walked
towards the Uninhabited House, I felt a different being.
On my way I called at a small corn-chandler's, and bought a quartern of
flour done up in a thin and utterly insufficient bag. I told the man the
wrapper would not bear its contents, and he said he could not help that.
I asked him if he had no stronger bags. He answered that he had, but he
could not afford to give them away.
I laid down twopence extra, and inquired if that would cover the expense
of a sheet of brown paper.
Ashamed, he turned aside and produced a substantial bag, into which he
put the flour in its envelope of curling-tissue.
I thanked him, and pushed the twopence across the counter. With a grunt,
he thrust the money back. I said good-night, leaving current coin of the
realm to the amount indicated behind me.
Through the night be shouted, "Hi! sir, you've forgotten your change."
Through the night I shouted back, "Give your next customer its value in
civility."
All of which did me good.
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