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Unit Seven: The Sampler -2

"This is not bad either, but a little too heavy."

All the time it was quite evident that he sincerely believed that he might eventually buy one of these puddings, and I am positive that he did not for a moment feel that he was in any way cheating the store.

Poor old chap! Probably he had come down in the world and this sampling was all that was left him from the time when he could afford to come and select his favorite pudding.

Amidst the crowd of happy, prosperous looking Christmas shoppers, the little black figure of the old man seemed pitiful and out of place, and in a burst of benevolence, I went up to him and said:

"Pardon me, sir, will you do me a favor? Let me purchase you one of these puddings. It would give me such pleasure."

He jumped back as if he had been stung, and the blood rushed into his wrinkled face.

"Excuse me," he said, with more dignity than I would have thought possible considering his appearance,

"I do not believe I have the pleasure of knowing you. Undoubtedly you have mistaken me for someone else."

And with a quick decision he turned to the shop girl and said in a loud voice, "Kindly pack me up this one here. I will take it with me."

He pointed at one of the largest and most expensive of the puddings.

The girl took down the pudding from its stand and started to make a parcel of it, while he pulled out a worn little black pocketbook and began counting out shillings and pennies on to the counter.

To save his "honour" he had been forced into a purchase which he could not possibly afford.

How I longed for the power to unsay my tactless words! It was too late though, and I felt that the kindest thing I could do now would be walk away.

"You pay at the desk," the shop girl was telling him, but he did not seem to understand and kept trying to put the coins into her hand.

And that was the last I saw or the old man. Now he can never go there to sample pudding any more.