Bobby wanted to be a man, and it is not strange that he should sometimes fancy he was a man.  He had an idea, too, that “all men are born free and equal;” and he could not exactly see why a nabob was entitled to any more respect and consideration than a poor man.  It was a lesson he was compelled to learn, though some folks live out their lifetimes without ever finding out that.

“’Tis wealth, good sir, makes honorable men.”  Some people think a rich man is no better than a poor man, except so far as he behaves himself better.  It is strange how stupid some people are!

Bobby had no notion of cringing to any man, and he felt as independent as the Declaration of Independence itself.  But then the beautiful lady had told him that he was pert and forward; and when he thought it over, he was willing to believe she was right, Colonel Whiting was an old man, compared with himself; and he had some faith, at least in theory, in the Spartan virtue of respect for the aged.  Probably the nabob of B——­ would have objected to being treated with respect on account of his age; and Bobby would have been equally unwilling to acknowledge that he treated him with peculiar respect on account of his wealth or position.

Perhaps the little merchant had an instinctive perception of expediency—­that he should sell more books by being less familiar:  at any rate he determined never again to use the flowery speeches he had arranged for the upper crust.

He had sold a dozen books; and possibly this fact made him more willing to compromise the matter than he would otherwise have been.  This was, after all, the great matter for congratulation, and with a light heart he hurried back to the railroad station to procure another supply.

We cannot follow him into every house where his calling led him.  He was not always as fortunate as in the instances we have mentioned.  Sometimes all his arguments were unavailing, and after he had spent half an hour of valuable time in setting forth the merits of “The Wayfarer,” he was compelled to retire without having effected a sale.  Sometimes, too, he was rudely repulsed; hard epithets were applied to him; old men and old women, worried out by the continued calls of pedlers, sneered at him, or shut the door in his face; but Bobby was not disheartened.  He persevered, and did not allow these little trials to discompose or discourage him.

By one o’clock on the first day of his service he had sold eighteen books, which far exceeded even his most sanguine expectations.  By this time he began to feel the want of his dinner; but there was no tavern or eating house at hand, and he could not think of leaving the harvest to return to the railroad station; so he bought a sheet of gingerbread and a piece of cheese at a store, and seating himself near a brook by the side of the road, he bolted his simple meal, as boys are very apt to do when they are excited.

When he had finished, he took out his account book, and entered, “Dinner, 10 cents.”  Resuming his business, he disposed of the remaining six books in his valise by the middle of the afternoon, and was obliged to return for another supply.