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 to a woman like that,—I should have such a hard time reforming her."

Uncle Rob was sorting out the cards and putting new bands on the packages, and matching them with the samples so as to get them into the right boxes, when Dad came along. He stopped and looked at the pile. "Chester," he said, "you ought to have told Robert that it wasn't necessary to get out the cards; because they are all on the sample sheets. See, Robert, there is one card of each pattern, on a sheet, and the price, and number in a package, is printed right there at the top."

"Yes, sir," said Uncle Rob, meekly, and Dad passed on.

Just then an old farmer came in and walked up to the counter. "I want a horse book," he said.

"Yes, sir," said Uncle Rob, and started down the store. As he passed me he whispered; "What the dickens is a horse book?"

"A book about raising horses," I answered. "They're back there with the dialogue books and short cuts to arithmetic."

He got it all right, and sold it without any trouble, and left the cash-desk just as a man came