"Well," the man said musingly, "I don't--jest--know. I
guess it's written on them likely," and he began to look
at the handles.
Over at the Pharmaceutical across the way the words "what
price?" would have precipitated a ready avalanche of
figures.
"This one seems to be seventy-five cents," he said and
handed me one.
"Is it a good tooth brush?" I asked.
"It ought to be," he said, "you'd think, at that price."
He had no shop talk, no patter whatever.
Then he looked at the brush again, more closely.
"I don't believe it IS seventy-five," he muttered, "I
think it must be fifteen, don't you?"
I took it from his hand and looked and said,--for it is
well to take an occasional step towards the Kingdom of
Heaven,--that I was certain it was seventy-five.
"Well," said the man, "perhaps it is, my sight is not so
good now. I've had too much to do here and the work's
been using me up some."
I noticed now as he said this how frail he looked as he
bent over his counter wrapping up the tooth brush.
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