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Before beginning the relation of the following incidents, I wish to state that I am a young married man, doing business in a large city, in the suburbs of which I live.

I was going into town the other morning, when my wife handed me a little piece of red calico, and asked me if I would have time, during the day, to buy her two yards and a half of calico like it. I assured her that it would be no trouble at all, and putting the piece of calico in my pocket, I took the train for the city.

At lunch-time I stopped in at a large dry-goods store to attend to my wife’s commission. I saw a well-dressed man walking the floor between the counters, where long lines of girls were waiting on much longer lines of customers, and asked him where I could see some red calico.

“This way, sir,” and he led me up the store.”Miss Stone,” said he to a young lady, “show this gentleman some red calico.”

“What shade do you want!” asked Miss Stone.

I showed her the little piece of calico that my wife had given me. She looked at it and handed it back to me. Then she took down a great roll of red calico and spread it out on the counter.

“Why, that isn’t the shade!” said I.

“No, not exactly,” said she.”But it is prettier than your sample.”

“That may be,” said I.”But, you see, I want to match this piece. There is something already in my house, made of this kind of calico, which needs to be made larger, or mended, or something. I want some calico of the same shade.”

The girl made no answer, but took down another roll.

“That’s the shade,” said she.

“Yes,” I replied, “but it’s striped.”

“Stripes are more worn than anything else in calicoes,” said she.

“Yes. But this isn’t to be worn. It’s for furniture, I think. At any rate, I want perfectly plain stuff, to match something already in use.”

“Well, I don’t think you can find it perfectly plain, unless you get Turkey red.”

“What is Turkey red?” I asked.

“Turkey red is perfectly plain in calicoes,” she answered.

“Well, let me see some.”

“We haven’t any Turkey red calico left,” she said, “but we have some very nice plain calicoes in other colors.”

“I don’t want any other color. I want stuff to match this.”

“It’s hard to match cheap calico like that,” she said, and so I left her.

I next went into a store a few doors farther up Broadway. When I entered I approached the “floorwalker,” and handing him my sample, said:

“Have you any calico like this?”

“Yes, sir,” said he.”Third counter to the right.”I went to the third counter to the right, and showed my sample to the salesman in attendance there. He looked at it on both sides. Then he said:

“We haven’t any of this.”

“The floorwalker said you had,” said I.

“We had it, but we’re out of it now. You’ll get that goods at an upholsterers.”

I went across the street to an upholsterer’s.

“Have you any stuff like this?” I asked.

“No,” said the salesman, “we haven’t. Is it for furniture?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Then Turkey red is what you want.”

“Is Turkey red just like this?” I asked.

“No,” said he, “but it’s much better.”

“That makes no difference to me,” I replied.”I want something just like this.”

“But they don’t use that for furniture,” he said.

“I should think people could use anything they wanted for furniture,” I remarked, somewhat sharply.

“They can, but they don’t,” he said quite calmly.”They don’t use red like that. They use Turkey red.”