"The rent would not be worth more than a dollar a month," said
Mr. - -, pointing with his cane to the dilapidated walls.
"Mr. Moodie has offered you a year's rent for the place."
"It may not be worth a cent," returned the woman; "for it will give
everybody the rheumatism that stays a week in it - but it is worth
that to me, and more nor double that just now to him. But I will not
be hard with him," continued she, rocking herself to and fro. "Say
twenty dollars, and I will turn out on Monday."
"I dare say you will," said Mr. - -, "and who do you think would be
fool enough to give you such an exorbitant sum for a ruined old shed
like this?"
"Mind your own business, and make your own bargains," returned the
old woman, tartly. "The devil himself could not deal with you, for I
guess he would have the worst of it. What do you say, sir?" and she
fixed her keen eyes upon my husband, as if she would read his
thoughts. "Will you agree to my price?"
"It is a very high one, Mrs. R - -; but as I cannot help myself, and
you take advantage of that, I suppose I must give it."
"'Tis a bargain," cried the old crone, holding out her hard, bony
hand. "Come, cash down!"
"Not until you give me possession on Monday next; or you might serve
me as your son has done."
"Ha!" said the old woman, laughing and rubbing her hands together;
"you begin to see daylight, do you?
