"You may talk till doomsday," said the widow, as mad as could be, "and
it won't do a particle of good. Now, you've got your answer, and you'd
better leave the house before you are driven out."

"Brooms, brushes, lamps----"

"Here the widow, who had been trying to keep in her anger, couldn't hold
out any longer. She seized the broom she had been sweeping with, and
brought it down with a tremendous whack upon Daniel's back. You can
imagine how hard it was, when I tell you that the force of the blow
snapped the broom in the middle. You might have thought Daniel would
resent it, but he didn't appear to notice it, though it must have hurt
him awful. He picked up the pieces, and handing them, with a polite bow,
to the widow, said, 'Now, ma'am, I'm sure you need a new broom. I've got
some capital ones out in the cart.'"

"The widow seemed kind of overpowered by his coolness. She hardly knew
what to say or what to think. However, she had broken her old broom,
that was certain, and must have a new one; so when Daniel ran out and
brought in a bundle of them, she picked out one and paid for it without
saying a word; only, when Daniel asked if he might have the pleasure
of calling again, she looked a little queer, and told him that if he
considered it a pleasure, she had no objection."

"And did he call again?"

"Yes, whenever he went that way. The widow was always very polite to him
after that, and, though she had a mortal dislike to pedlers in general,
she was always ready to trade with him. Daniel used to say that he