Wouldn't hev it in the house 'n' more than I'd git the town 'us tower in for a clock.

D'ye like it, child?
Ye can hev it's well's not.

I'd like to give it to ye." "I should like it very much, very much indeed," replied Mercy.

"But I really cannot think of taking it, unless you let us pay for it." The old man sprung to his feet with such impatience that the leather bale rolled away from him, and he nearly lost his balance.

Mercy sprang forward and caught him.
"Bless my soul! Bless my soul! Don't pester me, child! Don't you see I'm an old man?
I tell ye I'll give ye the clock, an' I won't sell it ter ye,--won't, won't, won't," and he picked up his cane, and stood leaning upon it with both his hands clasped on it, and his head bent forward, eagerly scanning Mercy's face.