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together, and maul your type to pieces, because there is no give in

them. I haven't book-learning like you, but you keep this well in



mind, the life of the Stanhope is the death of the type. Those three

presses will serve your turn well enough, the printing will be



properly done, and folk here in Angouleme won't ask any more of you.

You may print with presses made of wood or iron or gold or silver,



THEY will never pay you a farthing more."

" 'Item,' " pursued David, " 'five thousand pounds weight of type from



M. Vaflard's foundry----' " Didot's apprentice could not help smiling

at the name.



"Laugh away! After twelve years of wear, that type is as good as new.

That is what I call a typefounder! M. Vaflard is an honest man, who



uses hard metal; and, to my way of thinking, the best typefounder is

the one you go to most seldom."



" '----Taken at ten thousand francs,' " continued David. "Ten thousand

francs, father! Why, that is two francs a pound, and the Messrs. Didot



only ask thirty-six sous for their Cicero! These nail-heads of yours

will only fetch the price of old metal--fivepence a pound."



"You call M. Gille's italics, running-hand and round-hand, 'nail-

heads,' do you? M. Gille, that used to be printer to the Emperor! And



type that costs six francs a pound! masterpieces of engraving, bought

only five years ago. Some of them are as bright yet as when they came



from the foundry. Look here!"

Old Sechard pounced upon some packets of unused sorts, and held them



out for David to see.

"I am not book-learned; I don't know how to read or write; but, all



the same, I know enough to see that M. Gille's sloping letters are the

fathers of your Messrs. Didot's English running-hand. Here is the



round-hand," he went on, taking up an unused pica type.

David saw that there was no way of coming to terms with his father. It



was a case of Yes or No--of taking or leaving it. The very ropes

across the ceiling had gone down into the old "bear's" inventory, and



not the smallest item was omitted; jobbing chases, wetting-boards,

paste-pots, rinsing-trough, and lye-brushes had all been put down and



valued separately with miserly exactitude. The total amounted to

thirty thousand francs, including the license and the goodwill. David



asked himself whether or not this thing was feasible.

Old Sechard grew uneasy over his son's silence; he would rather have



had stormy argument than a wordless acceptance of the situation.

Chaffering in these sorts of bargains means that a man can look after



his interests. "A man who is ready to pay you anything you ask will

pay nothing," old Sechard was saying to himself. While he tried to



follow his son's train of thought, he went through the list of odds

and ends of plant needed by a country business, drawing David now to a



hot-press, now to a cutting-press, bragging of its usefulness and

sound condition.



"Old tools are always the best tools," said he. "In our line of

business they ought to fetch more than the new, like goldbeaters'



tools."

Hideous vignettes, representing Hymen and Cupids, skeletons raising



the lids of their tombs to describe a V or an M, and huge borders of

masks for theatrical posters became in turn objects of tremendous



value through old Jerome-Nicolas' vinous eloquence. Old custom, he

told his son, was so deeply rooted in the district that he (David)



would only waste his pains if he gave them the finest things in life.

He himself had tried to sell them a better class of almanac than the



Double Liegeois on grocers' paper; and what came of it?--the original

Double Liegeois sold better than the most sumptuous calendars. David



would soon see the importance of these old-fashioned things when he

found he could get more for them than for the most costly new-fangled



articles.

"Aha! my boy, Paris is Paris, and the provinces are the provinces. If



a man came in from L'Houmeau with an order for wedding cards, and you

were to print them without a Cupid and garlands, he would not believe



that he was properly married; you would have them all back again if

you sent them out with a plain M on them after the style of your



Messrs. Didot. They may be fine printers, but their inventions won't

take in the provinces for another hundred years. So there you are."



A generous man is a bad bargain-driver. David's nature was of the

sensitive and affectionate type that shrinks from a dispute, and gives



way at once if an opponent touches his feelings. His loftiness of

feeling, and the fact that the old toper had himself well in hand, put



him still further at a disadvantage in a dispute about money matters




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