At last human nature can stand it no longer.  The two malicious storekeepers put their heads together, and resolve to draw their prosperous enemy into a fight that will ruin him and enable them to smash his windows.  Accordingly, they throw stones and dirt at him, but he, intently interested in his store, notices them not.  His noisy apprentices and loungers around see and point out the insult, and urge him to avenge himself.  But no; he has no time to pay attention to petty annoyances; he is too busy getting up a huge candlestick for the Fair, and so, to smooth matters over, he sends his two enemies an invitation to view the magnificent candlestick that is to throw so much light on the world.

“He is either too stupid or too sharp for us,” sighs the Baker; “we can’t do anything in that way.  Suppose we set up an opposition store, with one of your sons for Proprietor, and see what effect that will have.”—­“Good, it shall be done,” says the Butcher.

Soon an empty store adjoining is hired, and being put in order, when the hitherto blind Proprietor wakes up to the fact that there is a coalition against him, and that he had better be stirring or he will lose his trade.  Accordingly he writes a remonstrance to his friend the Butcher, telling him “he wishes no rival in the trade.  He has always had a monopoly, and he intends to keep it.”  His apprentices back him up in his assertions, and declare they are ready to die for him and their candlesticks.  The advent of the messenger is noticed with inward rejoicing by the twain, but, when he presents his remonstrance, he is immediately kicked out of doors.

That is the last feather, the one straw too much, and the excitable little Candlestick-maker at once challenges his opponents to deadly combat.

The Poet, with a sublime contempt for the mysterious and wonderful intricacies of war, significantly calls this rush to arms a “jumping into a rotten potato.”

Alas! it proves a rotten potato to the poor Candlestick-maker.  Out sallies the Butcher with his cleaver, and his boys with their knives, and by his side the Baker with his rolling-pin, followed by his crowd of friends armed with toasting-forks and cutting-irons, presenting a formidable front to the astonished JOHNNY and his handful of apprentices.

But there is no back-door to creep out through now; so at it they go, Valor against Might, but Might is the stronger, and Valor gets knocked on the head and has to fall back.  This exasperates the heroic defenders of the shop, who exclaim, “If you can’t fight any better than that, you had better leave,” and immediately begin an attack in his rear.

The poor man, astonished at this unlooked-for defection from his ranks, turns his eyes imploringly around for aid, but sees none that can avail him.  He hears on all sides the shout, “Clear out, clear out.  If you can’t win the battle for yourself, we will win it for ourselves, and keep the spoils.”  Sadly he views the situation; he feels the kicks of the Candlestick-makers in the rear, and he knows there is no hope for him.  But his beloved store! he will save that if he can; he will offer himself as a sacrifice.