218 THE TIM BUNKER PAPERS. 



two barrels to carry his family through the year. I have 

 noticed, however, that he and his wife are more neighbor 

 ly than common, since they stopped the daily paper. I 

 am not particularly sorry, for Seth is good company, if 

 it wasn t for his everlasting pipe, which I abominate, as 

 all sensible people should. What upon earth a man should 

 want to make a chimney of his nose for, I never could 

 see. We are kind o lonesome since Sally got married 

 and John went off to the war, and neighbors don t come 

 amiss. Seth also has a son in the war, and we have a con 

 siderable fellow feeling.) 



&quot; There s a hundred of them stores at least,&quot; replied 

 Mrs. Bunker. 



&quot; You don t mean a hundred on em ?&quot; exclaimed Mrs. 

 Jacob Frink, whom the neighbors all call &quot;Polly,&quot; for 

 short except a few of us older people, who say &quot; Aunt 

 Polly.&quot; 



&quot; What a sight of silver spoons and forks, tea-pots and 

 tureens, fruit knives and porringers, they must have down 

 there, if all the stores sold as much as that ere one you 

 read about !&quot; 



&quot; It would make four millions and a half of dollars, 

 spent in gewgaws in one morning,&quot; said I, willing to in 

 crease Aunt Polly s astonishment. 



&quot; You don t say so, Squire Bunker !&quot; said she. &quot; That 

 is more than Jacob could carry in his cart.&quot; 



&quot; Well, I guess it is. It would line Broadway with 

 silver, from the Battery to Central Park,&quot; said L 



&quot; Provided you did nt lay it on too thick,&quot; added Mrs. 

 Bunker, squirming in her chair, at the extravagant ex 

 pression. 



&quot; I said line it, Sally, not cover it.&quot; I responded. 



&quot; Wall, it is an awful sight of money any way !&quot; said 

 Aunt Polly. &quot; I fear I should covet, if I see it.&quot; 



&quot;And where do you suppose it all conies from, ?&quot; asked 

 Mrs. Twiggs. 



