? And old Gashwiler every day getting
harder to bear! His resolve stiffened. He would not wait much
longer--only until the savings hidden out under the grocery counter had
grown a bit. He made ready for bed, taking, after he had undressed,
some dumb-bell exercises that would make his shoulders a trifle ire like
Harold Parmalee's. This rite concluded, he knelt by his narrow cot and
prayed briefly.

"Oh, God, make me a good movie actor! Make me one of the best! For
Jesus'sake, amen!"

CHAPTER III. WESTERN STUFF

Saturday proved all that his black forebodings had pictured it--a day
of sordid, harassing toil; toil, moreover, for which Gashwiler, the
beneficiary, showed but the scantest appreciation. Indeed, the day
opened with a disagreement between the forward-looking clerk and
his hide-bound reactionary. Gashwiler had reached the store at his
accustomed hour of 8:30 to find Merton embellishing the bulletin board
in front with legends setting forth especial bargains of the day to be
had within.

Chalk in hand, he had neatly written, "See our new importation of
taffetas, $2.59 the yard." Below this he was in the act of putting down,
"Try our choice Honey-dew spinach, 20 cts. the can." "Try our Preferred
Chipped Beef, 58 cts. the pound."

He was especially liking that use of "the." It sounded modern. Yet along
came Gashwiler, as if seeking an early excuse to nag, and criticized
this.

"Why don't you say 'a yard,' 'a can,' 'a pound'?" he demanded harshly.
"What's the sense of that there 'the' stuff? Looks to me like just
putting on a few airs. You keep to plain language and our patrons'll
like it a lot better." Viciously Merton Gill rubbed out the modern "the"
and substituted the desired "a."

"Very well," he assented, "if you'd rather stick to the old-fashioned
way; but I can tell you that's the way city stores do it. I thought you
might want to be up to date, but I see I made a great mistake."

"Humph!" said Gashwiler, unbitten by this irony. "I guess the old way's
good enough, long's our prices are always right. Don't forget to put on
that canned salmon. I had that in stock for nearly a year now--and
say it's twenty cents 'a' can, not 'the' can. Also say it's a grand
reduction from thirty-five cents."

That was always the way. You never could please the old grouch. And so
began the labour that lasted until nine that night. Merton must count
out eggs and weigh butter that was brought in. He must do up su