Victorian Culture/The Little PedlarPrevious | Home | NextTranscript from original newspaper article: - |
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THE LITTLE PEDLAR.
One rainy afternoon, in the earliest part of autumn I heard a low knock at my door, and upon opening it found a pedlar. Now, pedlars are a great vexation to me; they leave the gates open; they never have anything I want, and I don’t like the faces that belong to most of them, especially those of the strong men who go about with little packages of coarse goods, and I always close the door upon them, saying to myself – lazy. This was a little boy, and he was pale and wet, and looked so cold I forgot he was a pedlar, and asked him to come in by the fire. I thought he appeared as though he expected I was going to buy something, for he commenced opening his tin-box; but I had no such intention. He looked up in my face very earnestly and sadly, when I told him to warm himself by the fire, that I did not wish to purchase anything. He rose slowly from his seat, and there was something in his air which reproached me, and I detained him to inquire why he was out in the rain. He replied “I am out every day, and can’t
stay in for a little rain; besides most pedlars stay at home then, and
I can sell more on rainy days.” He opened his box, and for once I found what I wanted. Indeed, I didn’t think it would have mattered what he had, I should have wanted it; the little pedlar had changed in my eyes; he had a father and mother in heaven, and so had I. How strange that pedlars had never seemed like people, human soul-filled beings before. How thankful he was, and how his great sunken blue eyes looked into mine when I paid him. “You don’t ask me to take a halfpenny less,”
said he, after hesitating a minute. “I think you must be very rich.” He never came again, though I looked for him every day. At length, about New Year’s Day, I went to the place he called home. Mrs. Brown was there; but the little pilgrim’s weary feet were at rest, and never more would his gentle knock be heard at the door of those who, like myself, forgot the necessity and stern want that often send about these wanderers from house to house. Main Menu - Shop Online - Email Us
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