When I came into the shop, seeing no chair or stool, I went behind the
compter, and sat down under an arched kind of canopy of carved work,
which these proud traders, emulating the royal niche-fillers, often give
themselves, while a joint-stool, perhaps, serves those by whom they get
their bread: such is the dignity of trade in this mercantile nation!

I looked about me, and above me; and told them I was very proud of my
seat; asking, if John were ever permitted to fill this superb niche?

Perhaps he was, he said, very surlily.

That is it that makes thee looks so like a statue, man.

John looked plaguy glum upon me. But his man Joseph and my man Will.
turned round with their backs to us, to hide their grinning, with each
his fist in his mouth.

I asked, what it was they sold?

Powder, and wash-balls, and snuff, they said; and gloves and stockings.

O come, I'll be your customer. Will. do I want wash-balls?

Yes, and please your Honour, you can dispense with one or two.

Give him half a dozen, dame Smith.

She told me she must come where I was, to serve them. Pray, Sir, walk
from behind the compter.