No shop is so easily set up as an antiquary's.
Like those of the lowest order of pawnbrokers, a
commodity of rusty iron, a bag or two of hobnails,
a few odd shoebuckles, cashiered kail-pots, and
fire-irons declared incapable of service, are quite
sufficient to set him up. If he add a sheaf or two
of penny ballads and broadsides, he is a great man
---an extensive trader. And then---like the pawnbrokers
aforesaid, if the author understands a little
legerdemain, he may, by dint of a little picking
and stealing, make the inside of his shop a great
deal richer than the out, and be able to show you
things which cause those who do not understand
the antiquarian trick of clean conveyance, to wonder
how the devil he came by them.
It may be said, that antiquarian articles interest
but few customers, and that we may bawl ourselves
as rusty as the wares we deal in without any one
asking the price of our merchandise. But I do
not rest my hopes upon this department of my labours
only. I propose also to have a corresponding
shop for Sentiment, and Dialogues, and Disquisition,
which may captivate the fancy of those
who have no relish, as the established phrase goes,
for pure antiquity;---a sort of green-grocer's stall
erected in front of my ironmongery wares, garlanding
the rusty memorials of ancient times with
cresses, cabbages, leeks, and water purpy.
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