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14 14 THE KING OF SCHNORRERS.

pennies for articles he did not take away — shoe-latchets and cane-strings, barley-sugar and butter-cakes. Suddenly, through a chink in an opaque mass of human beings, he caught sight of a small attractive salmon on a fishmonger's slab. His eye glittered, his chops watered. He elbowed his way to the vendor, whose eye caught a corresponding gleam, and whose finger went to his hat in respectful greeting.

" Good afternoon, Jonathan," said Grobstock jovially, " I'll take that salmon there — how much? "

" Pardon me," said a voice in the crowd, " I am just bar- gaining for it."

Grobstock started. It was the voice of Manasseh.

" Stop that nonsense, da Costa," responded the fish- monger. "You know you won't give me my price. It is the only one I have left," he added, half for the benefit of Grobstock. " I couldn't let it go under a couple of guineas."

" Here's your money," cried Manasseh with passionate contempt, and sent two golden coins spinning musically upon the slab.

In the crowd sensation, in Grobstock's breast astonish- ment, indignation, and bitterness. He was struck momen- tarily dumb. His face purpled. The scales of the salmon shone like a celestial vision that was fading from him by his own stupidity.

"I'll take that salmon, Jonathan," he repeated, splutter- ing. " Three guineas."

" Pardon me," repeated Manasseh, " it is too late. This is not an auction." He seized the fish by the tail.

Grobstock turned upon him, goaded to the point of apoplexy. " You ! " he cried. " You — you — rogue ! How dare you buy salmon ! "

"Rogue yourself!" retorted Manasseh. "Would you have me steal salmon?"