xcuse the clumsiness of their make by describing themselves as "strong
workmen's." The side entrance, up a narrow alley, was surmounted by the
usual three brass balls, and here Mr. Hyams' clients were wont to call.
They entered as optimists, smiled confidently upon Mr. Hyams, argued,
protested shrilly, and left the establishment pessimists of a most
pronounced and virulent type.

None of these things, however, disturbed the pawnbroker. The drunken
client who endeavored to bail out his Sunday clothes with a tram ticket
was accommodated with a chair, while the assistant went to hunt up his
friends and contract for a speedy removal; the old woman who, with a
view of obtaining a higher advance than usual, poured a tale of grievous
woe into the hardened ears of Mr. Hyams, found herself left to the same
invaluable assistant, and, realizing her failure, would at once become
cheerful and take what was offered. Mr. Hyams' methods of business were
quiet and unostentatious, and rumor had it that he might retire at any
time and live in luxury.

It was a cold, cheerless afternoon in November as Mr. Hyams, who had
occasional hazy ideas of hygiene, stood at his door taking the air. It
was an atmosphere laden with soot and redolent of many blended odors,
but after the fusty smell of the shop it was almost health-giving.
In the large public-house opposite, with its dirty windows and faded
signboards, the gas was already being lit, which should change it from
its daylight dreariness to a resort of light and life.

Mr. Hyams, who was never in a hurry to light up his own premises, many
of his clients preferring the romantic light which comes between day and
night for their visits, was about to leave the chilly air for the warmth
inside, when his attention was attracted by a seaman of sturdy aspect
stopping and looking in at his window. Mr. Hyams rubbed his hands
softly. There was an air of comfort and prosperity about this seaman,
and the pawnbroker had many small articles in his window, utterly
useless to the man, which he would have liked to have sold him.

The man came from the window, made as though to pass, and then paused
irresolute before the pawn-broker.

"You want a watch?" said the latter genially. "Come inside."

Mr. Hyams went behind his counter and waited.

"I don't want to buy nothing, and I don't want to pawn nothing," said
the sailor. "What do you think o' that?"

Mr. Hyams, who objected to riddles, especially those