tramway lines over our heads to the other end of the shop.  That was the most melancholy game at skittles I ever took part in.  It seemed an age before the ball came back to us, whereupon the young lady took out the bill and my change—­a halfpenny.  “We haven’t a farthing in the place,” she said innocently, “What else will you take for it?” “Oh, it doesn’t matter at all,” I returned, anxious only to rush away from the spot—­which I did.  It was a good quarter-of-an-hour before I gained the street.  During that interval, I strayed into the carpet department, upset an old lady, fell sprawling over a chair, rushed into the arms of the shopwalker, knocked down a huge stack of flannels, trod on some unfortunate young fellow’s corn, making him howl with pain, and last, not least, ran foul of a perambulator laden with a baby and the usual Saturday night’s marketing in the doorway.

I entered that shop full of hope and promise; I left it a melancholy man.

Though not quite so exciting as the foregoing, there is an intimate connection between that incident and the one I shall now dwell upon.  Let me tell the tale as I told it to my wife.  The other day I brought home a neat little Japanese basket—­a mere knick-knack, costing only twopence.  “Oh, how pretty!” exclaimed my wife.  “Wherever did you get this?” “I bought it at a large shop in Regent Street,” I answered, “but it cost me a great deal of trouble to get it.”  Pressed for particulars, I continued: 

“I was amusing myself by looking at the shops, when I saw a lot of these little Japanese baskets in the corner of a large window, plainly marked twopence each.  So I stepped inside to buy one.  The door was promptly opened for me by a black boy, resplendent in gold-faced livery.  He made me a profound salaam, as a gentleman of aristocratic bearing came forward to meet me.  ’And what may I have the pleasure of showing you?’ he inquired.  ‘Oh!’ I returned, not without some misgivings, ’I only want one of those little Japanese baskets which you have in one corner of the window, marked, I believe, twopence each.’  ’Certainly, sir.  Will you be so kind as to step into this department?’ he said.

“Meekly I followed him through long avenues of silks, damasks, brocades, and other costly examples of Oriental luxury in all the tints of the rainbow.  I was beginning to feel uncomfortable at the thought of causing him so much trouble, when he paused at the entrance to another department, and called out, ’Japanese baskets, please.’  Then turning to me, he said, ’If you will be good enough to step forward, they will be most happy to serve you.’  I did so, and found myself on the threshold of an Eastern bazaar.  Another nobleman now took me in hand.  ‘And what may I have the pleasure——­’ he began, making a courteous bow.  ’I only want one of those little Japanese baskets which you have in a corner of your window, marked, I believe, twopence each—­or, possibly, they may be two shillings?’ I said in a shaky voice.