The Weber Literary Journal cheated him out of. Do come in child. What do you want?" I fidgeted in my chair, but after a time I got her to understand. "Well now, child, I'm just right sorry but I can't buy 'em. Mr. Jeskers, he won't give me one cent 'less it's very necessary and he never thinks I need anything like that." I was rather disappointed but thot I might have had sense enough to know Mrs. Jeskers couldn't buy any as long as she lived with that stingy man. Mrs. Hart's was the next house on my side of the street. I did hate to go to her place, because she went around peddling pills and I thot that was rather degrading. However, I did go in and in an unmistakably superior tone inquired if she would care to buy any needles. "No, thank yer," she replied peevishly. "The last time I was to your house your ma told me nobody to your house used pink pills and I guess nobody to my house uses needles. Good day to yer." How dared she! The town nuisance to speak to me that way! Hereafter she would be the one to stick her chin in the air and I'd be the one that'd have to turn my head when we passed. The humiliation of it was more than I could bear. I went over behind the fence across the street and cried for awhile until I remembered not to bother about it because she was who she was. I took out my looking glass and after seeing that I looked a sight, came out and stuck my handkerchief in the ditch and then went back behind the fence and dabbed my eyes till they didn't look so red. I made myself smile three different times and then I was ready to come out for good. I passed Mrs. Hart's house with my head so high my neck hurt. Next I passed by Mrs. Cross's place because she was one of those haughty ladies that thot she was so much better than the majority of people. Once I had told her that I was every bit as "well-bred" as she was; and every bit as "good". So I went into Mrs. Carot's place. When I got there, who should be there but Mrs. Cross. I tried to think of some other excuse for coming, but before I could think of anything else to say 16 The Weber Literary Journal I was telling her about the needles. Mrs. Carot had dropped some of the beans she was cleaning when I knocked, so she was dreadfully cross. She said, "I haven't patience with peddlers." I turned away quick saying I wasn't a peddler, but I guess both of them thot I was. Mrs. Jenkins, the next lady, bought a package because I was the bishop's daughter and she thot she wouldn't need to pay so much tithing next December if she , helped the church out now. And Mrs. Dunstrom said she would buy a package because she always gave "Charity to beggars". Oh, that pitying look! I almost wished I never had seen a camera. That night I went home hot, disappointed and tired. I had sold only two packages. Ada met me at the gate as disappointed as I. She had sold just five and was nearly ready to cry. We decided that neither of us would try to sell anything again. Agnes Welch would have to keep her old camera and act as smart as ever. But just as we were about to kiss each other a sorrowful good night, Uncle John came along and said: "Jennie, what's this I hear about you peddling needles to buy a camera? Look here, little girl, I don't want none of my own sister's children reduced to 'Peddlin'. You just take this five dollars and buy a camera and don't ever do it again." And now I can talk right along with Agnes. 17