I'll let you have three for five cents." This attempt at petty trade, almost in the guise of hospitality, struck Dick as being so utterly funny that he could not help laughing outright.
"Thank you, Mr.Titmouse," he replied.

"I don't believe I'll eat any apples just now." "I might make it four for a nickel," coaxed the little man, "if you agree not to pick out the largest apples." "Thank you, but I don't believe I'll eat any apples at all just now," Dick managed to reply, then made his escape in time to avoid laughing in Mr.Titmouse's face.
Once out on the street, and knowing that he had some twenty minutes to wait for the next car, Dick strolled slowly along.
"I didn't know that boy," muttered Newbegin Titmouse, looking after Prescott with a half admiring gaze, "and I didn't size him up right.

He offered me ten dollars, and then got the wagon for six.

Whew! I don't believe I ever before got off so badly as that in a trade.

But I really did spend five-fifty in advertising the wagon in the Tottenville and Gridley papers this summer, so I'm fifty cents ahead, anyway, and a fifty-cent piece is always equivalent to half a dollar!" With which sage reflection Mr.Newbegin Titmouse went out into his small orchard to see whether he had overlooked any summer apples that were worth two dollars a barrel.
Dick sauntered down the street for a few blocks ere he heard the whirr of a Gridley-bound trolley car behind him.