He was entirely satisfied with a couple
of barrels of flour, which, being invoiced "slightly damaged", were to
be had at a reasonable price.
After this, Silas Peckham felt in good spirits. He had done a pretty
stroke of business. It came into his head whether he might not follow
it up with a still more brilliant speculation. So he turned his steps
in the direction of Colonel Sprowle's.
It was now eleven o'clock, and the battlefield of last evening was as
we left it. Mr. Peckham's visit was unexpected, perhaps not very well
timed, but the Colonel received him civilly.
"Beautifully lighted,--these rooms last night!" said Mr. Peckham.
"Winter-strained?"
The Colonel nodded.
"How much do you pay for your winter-strained?"
The Colonel told him the price.
"Very hahnsome supper,--very hahnsome! Nothin' ever seen like it in
Rockland. Must have been a great heap of things left over."
The compliment was not ungrateful, and the Colonel acknowledged it by
smiling and saying, "I should think the' was a trifle! Come and look."
When Silas Peckham saw how many delicacies had survived the evening's
conflict, his commercial spirit rose at once to the point of a
proposal.
"Colonel Sprowle," said he, "there's meat and cakes and pies and
pickles enough on that table to spread a hahnsome colation.
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