Our hero's feet, of course, were cold, and yet his heart was strong and
bold. "It will not heal this wound of mine," he said, "to murmur and
repine. Though sad my heart, I'll sing and smile, and try to earn a
princely pile; and having got the bullion, then I'll ask her for her
hand again."
He quenched the yearnings of his heart and plunged into the clanging
mart as agent for a handsome book instructing women how to cook. His
volume sold to beat the band and wealth came in hand over hand; but
ever, as he scoured the town, he thought of 'Titia Pinkham Brown, and
scalding tears anon would rise and almost cook his steely eyes.