‘Well, go on.’
’My heart beats so. Well, I went back to my booth and picked up my stall and my fruits, what I could find of them. I couldn’t keep my stall for two days I got such a fright, and when I got round I couldn’t bide the booth where the thing had happened, so I came over to the other side. Oh, the rascals, if I could but see them hanged.’
‘Why, for stealing my book.’
’I thought you didn’t dislike stealing,—that you were ready to buy things—there was your son, you know—’
‘Yes, to be sure.’
‘He took things.’
‘To be sure he did.’
‘But you don’t like a thing of yours to be taken.’
’No, that’s quite a different thing; what’s stealing handkerchiefs, and that kind of thing, to do with taking my book? there’s a wide difference—don’t you see?’
‘Yes, I see.’
’Do you, dear? well, bless your heart, I’m glad you do. Would you like to look at the book?’
‘Well, I think I should.’
‘Honour bright?’ said the apple-woman, looking me in the eyes.
‘Honour bright,’ said I, looking the apple-woman in the eyes.
‘Well then, dear, here it is,’ said she, taking it from under her cloak; ’read it as long as you like, only get a little farther into the booth— Don’t sit so near the edge—you might—’
I went deep into the booth, and the apple-woman, bringing her chair round, almost confronted me. I commenced reading the book, and was soon engrossed by it; hours passed away, once or twice I lifted up my eyes, the apple-woman was still confronting me: at last my eyes began to ache, whereupon I returned the book to the apple-woman, and, giving her another tanner, walked away.
Decease of the Review—Homer himself—Bread and cheese—Finger and thumb—Impossible to find—Something grand—Universal mixture—Some other publisher.