“Dunn, show red calicoes.”

Mr. Dunn took my sample and looked at it.

“We haven’t this shade in that quality of goods,” he said.

“Well, have you it in any quality of goods?” I asked.

“Yes; we’ve got it finer.”  And he took down a piece of calico, and unrolled a yard or two of it on the counter.

“That’s not this shade,” I said.

“No,” said he.  “The goods is finer and the color’s better.”

“I want it to match this,” I said.

“I thought you weren’t particular about the match,” said the salesman.  “You said you didn’t care for the quality of the goods, and you know you can’t match goods without you take into consideration quality and color both.  If you want that quality of goods in red, you ought to get Turkey-red.”

I did not think it necessary to answer this remark, but said: 

“Then you’ve got nothing to match this?”

“No, sir.  But perhaps they may have it in the upholstery department, in the sixth story.”

So I got in the elevator and went up to the top of the house.

“Have you any red stuff like this?” I said to a young man.

“Red stuff?  Upholstery department,—­other end of this floor.”

I went to the other end of the floor.

“I want some red calico,” I said to a man.

“Furniture goods?” he asked.

“Yes,” said I.

“Fourth counter to the left.”

I went to the fourth counter to the left, and showed my sample to a salesman.  He looked at it, and said: 

“You’ll get this down on the first floor—­calico department.”

I turned on my heel, descended in the elevator, and went out on Broadway.  I was thoroughly sick of red calico.  But I determined to make one more trial.  My wife had bought her red calico not long before, and there must be some to be had somewhere.  I ought to have asked her where she bought it, but I thought a simple little thing like that could be bought anywhere.

I went into another large dry-goods store.  As I entered the door a sudden tremor seized me.  I could not bear to take out that piece of red calico.  If I had had any other kind of a rag about me—­a pen-wiper or any thing of the sort—­I think I would have asked them if they could match that.

But I stepped up to a young woman and presented my sample, with the usual question.

“Back room, counter on the left,” she said.

I went there.

“Have you any red calico like this?” I asked of the lady behind the counter.

“No, sir,” she said, “but we have it in Turkey-red.”

Turkey-red again!  I surrendered.

“All right,” I said, “give me Turkey-red.”

“How much, sir?” she asked.

“I don’t know—­say five yards.”