"No mashed or decayed ones among them."
"I have been wanting some apples," said Eliza. "If I knew what yours
were like I might buy some."
"I have a few here to show," and John Charles drew from a small paper
sack one or two bright rosy apples. "There, try one," he said. "You
will find them nice and juicy and sour enough to cook quickly."
Eliza bit into one and expressed her approval of the fruit. "They will
make delicious apple-sauce, I'm sure," she said. After inquiring the
price she told the young merchant he might carry in a peck.
With a business-like flourish John Charles took a small note-book and
pencil from his pocket and wrote something at the top of the leaf.
"I'm not delivering now," he said as he returned the note-book to his
pocket. "I'm only taking orders; but I'll have your apples here in an
hour."
Eliza bit her lip to keep back a smile. A boy in knee pants
transacting business like a grown man, appeared quite amusing to her.
"Oh, I see," she said. "You take orders for your goods. You don't
sell from door to door."
"No, indeed!" answered John Charles with a lofty air. "That's too much
like peddling. I won't peddle. I prefer to get regular customers and
take orders and fill them."
While he had been talking he had been glancing toward me where I hung
in the window, and he now politely asked if he might come to look at
me.
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