Ralph Ashley to Miss Redbud Summers; and
then, with a little masonic movement of the head, added, with perfect
ease:
"Suppose we all take a walk in the garden--it is a very pretty
evening."
This proposition was enthusiastically seconded by Mr. Ralph Ashley,
who had regained his laughing ease again--and though Redbud would fain
have been excused, she was obliged to yield, and so in ten minutes
they were promenading up and down the old garden, engaged in pleasant
conversation--which conversation has, however, nothing to do with this
veracious history.
Just as they arrived, in one of their perambulatory excursions around
the walks, at a small gate which opened on the hill-side, they
discovered approaching them a worthy of the pedlar description, who
carried on his broad German shoulders a large pack, which, as the
pedlar jogged along, made, pretences continually of an intention to
dive forward over his head, but always without carrying this intention
into execution. The traveling merchant seemed to be at the moment a
victim to that species of low spirits which attacks all his class when
trade is dull; and no sooner had he descried the youthful group, than
his face lighted up with anticipated business.
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