Southern Argus

ANECDOTE OF OLDEN TIME.

Mr. S., a respectable and thrifty merchant of the last century, possessed a great deal of natural shrewdness, together with a tact of turning every thing to his own advantage.

We have heard many anecdotes of him and among others, the following will better show off his peculiarities than a labored description. He kept a grocery store near Spring Hill, which, like the grocery stores of that period, was filled with a variety of notions; among other things he was famous for the good quality of his cotton—an article which at that time was very scarce and high. One day a customer from the country drove up, and inquired the price of cotton.

"Three and sixpence per pound," replied Mr. S.

"Weigh me a dozen pounds," says the countryman, at the same time stepping into the store with a large bag to put it in.

Now it happened there was a small lot of good cheese near the spot, and the countryman, though right from the land of milk and honey, could not resist the propensity to crib one of them. He accordingly took one up, and after looking about to see that none were observing him, slid it into his bag, which he immediately tied up, and patiently awaited the return of Mr. S., who soon after came out and presented the bill, which the countryman paid.

Now Mr. S. was one of the most polite men of the age, and moreover his quick eye had detected the abduction of the cheese. He was at no loss to account for its disappearance, and instantly prepared himself to act as circumstances may require.

The countryman, after one or two unimportant observations, was preparing to depart. S., who we before observed was excessively polite, would by no means suffer him carry his own bundle, but offered his services, and at the same time took up the bag to carry it out. He had proceeded nearly to the door of his shop when he stopped.

"This bag is very heavy—I must have made a mistake in the weight of the cotton."

"I guess not," said the countryman.

"But I have certainly," says S.—"I can hardly carry it; we must weigh it again."

By this time S. had brought it back to the counter and was preparing to untie it. Here was a dilemma. If the bag was untied the theft would be discovered, and if weighed as it was, it would be paying monstrously high for the cheese. The countryman hem'd and ha'd, and scratched his head, but without getting out of the difficulty. To complete his consternation, at that moment, another person entered this decided him, and after drawing a long breath, he stammered out

"Mr. S., don't trouble yourself to untie the bag; it weighs just a pound, I've weighed it a hundred times."

"No consequence," said S. and he put the whole into the scales.

"I knew I must have made a mistake. It weighs thirty eight pounds—blockhead I am. Let me see, twelve that you paid for, and one for the bag is thirteen—thirteen from thirty-eight leaves twenty-five.—Twenty-five lbs., at 3s. 6d., is £4 7s. 6d. Wait a moment, I will make another bill."

The countryman did wait, received his bill and paid £4 7s. 6d for his cheese. He then flung the bag into the wagon: jumped in and drove off, with a face glowing like ignited charcoal. Mr. S. remained in the door until he had bowed his customer out of sight; then turning round, he coolly observed to the person within:

"Our friend there has a fine horse; how fast he trots."