bought our little place, I said to her, 'We'll have it all furnished
with old-fashioned goods.' And here I am, taking, time away from my
business, riding round the country, and paying good money for what's no
use to anybody but me."

"What is your business?" interrupted Aunt Melissa.

"Oh, insurance--a little of everything--Jack-of-all-trades!" Then he
turned to Old Mrs. Green, and asked, abruptly, "What'll you take for
that clock?"

The old lady followed his alert forefinger until her eyes rested on the
tall eight-day clock in the corner. She straightened herself in her
chair, and spoke with pride:--

"That was Jonathan's gre't-uncle Samwell's. He wound it every Sunday
night, reg'lar as the day come round. I've rubbed that case up till I
sweat like rain. 'Mandy she rubs it now."

"Well, what'll you take?" persisted he, while Amanda, in wordless
protest, stepped in front of the clock. "Five dollars?"

"Five dollars," repeated the old lady, lapsing into senseless
iteration. "Yes, five dollars."

But Aunt Melissa came to the rescue.

"Five dollars for that clock?" she repeated, winding her ball, and
running the needles into it with a conclusive stab. "Well, I guess
there ain't any eight-day clocks goin' out o' _this_ house for five