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Stockton, Frank Richard, 1834-1902

"The Magic Egg and Other Stories"



"Yes. We've got it finer." He took down a piece of calico,
and unrolled a yard or two of it.

"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 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."

I got into 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.


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