The Broad Highway - Page 36/374

"Howsomever," he continued, "it's a handsome weskit, there's no

denyin', an' well worth a woman's lookin' at--a proper man inside

of it."

"Not a doubt of it," said I.

"I mean," said he, scratching his ear, and staring hard at the

handle of the pitchfork, "a chap wi' a fine pair o' whiskers,

say."

"Hum!" said I.

"Now, woman," he went on, shifting his gaze to the top button

of his left gaiter, "woman is uncommon fond o' a good pair o'

whiskers--leastways, so I've heerd."

"Indeed," said I, "few women can look upon such things unmoved,

I believe, and nothing can set off a pair of fine, black whiskers

better than a flowered satin waistcoat."

"That's so!" nodded the farmer.

"But, unfortunately," said I, passing my hand over my smooth lips

and chin, "I have no whiskers."

"No," returned the farmer, with a thoughtful shake of the head,

"leastways, none as I can observe."

"Now, you have," said I.

"So they do tell me," he answered modestly.

"And the natural inference is that you ought to have a flowered

waistcoat to go with them."

"Why, that's true, to be sure!" he nodded.

"The price of this one is--fifteen shillings," said I.

"That's a lot o' money, master," said he, shaking his head.

"It's a great deal less than forty," said I.

"An' ten is less than fifteen, an' ten shillin' is my price; what

d'ye say--come now."

"You drive a hard bargain," said I, "but the waistcoat is yours

at your own price." So saying, I slipped off knapsack and coat,

and removing the garment in question, having first felt through

the pockets, handed it to him, whereupon he slowly counted the

ten shillings into my hand; which done, he sat down upon the shaft

of a cart near by, and, spreading out the waistcoat on his knees,

looked it over with glistening eyes.

"Forty shillin' you paid for 'un, up to Lunnon," said he, "forty

shillin' it were, I think?"

"Forty shillings!" said I.

"Ecod, it's a sight o' money! But it's a grand weskit--ah, that

it is!"

"So you believe me now, do you?" said I, pocketing the ten

shillings.

"Well," he answered slowly, "I won't go so fur as that, but 'tis

a mighty fine weskit theer's no denyin', an' must ha' cost a

sight o' money--a powerful sight!" I picked up my knapsack and,

slipping it on, took my staff, and turned to depart. "Theer's a

mug o' homebrewed, an' a slice o' fine roast beef up at th' 'ouse,

if you should be so inclined--"