"Six annas for you, boy," the shopkeeper called after him.
Rhamon laughed to himself and thought, "I'm pretty good." He came back and looked at the top. "I will give you three annas for this top," he said, winding it up for a spin.
The shopkeeper threw up his hands in horror. "Three annas! And how shall a poor man live when he must sell his goods for so little? Oh woe, oh woe! I have no luck today." Then as Rhamon started for the door again, he called, "Five annas and the top is yours."
"I shall look at tops farther down the street," Rhamon answered, jingling the coins in his pocket. Now Rhamon wanted the top, so just as he reached the door he pulled out his money and said, "I will give you four annas for that top."
"Allah have mercy!" the old man muttered as he put the shiny top into Rhamon's hand and gathered up the four annas with his bony fingers.
But it would be hard to say who was the hap-
