ion to the Auto-extensor System of increasing height. He did
not have much faith in it, but in desperation he gave it a trial--and it
made him what he now is. Look for yourselves. Facts speak louder than
words. All we ask you to do is to trust the evidence of your own eyes."

The window proved a great attraction. The crowd before it was most
numerous about four o'clock, because every day at that hour a dramatic
and exciting scene was witnessed. Putting down his newspaper, Hugo
struck a bell on a little table by his side. A page entered through the
excessively plush curtains at the back, and Hugo gave a brief and
haughty order. The boy somewhat overacted respectful acquiescence,
retired through the curtains, and reappeared again with tea and thin
bread and butter. Of these delicacies Hugo partook _coram populo_. This
carried conviction with it. One onlooker would say to another: "Shows
you he's real, don't it? At one time I thought it was only a dummy." And
for some time afterwards the assistant in the shop would be kept busy,
handing out the gratis explanatory booklet of the Auto-extensor Co.

It was in this window that I first saw Hugo. I arrived a little late
that afternoon, and missed the first act, where he puts down the
newspaper and rings the bell. But I saw the conclusion of the piece.

My eyes filled with tears. Here--here at last--I had met somebody whose
chilled-steel endurance of publicity equalled, and perhaps exceeded, my
own.

I entered the shop, procured the explanatory booklet, and asked at what
hour they closed. At that hour I met him as he left business, and my
first feelings were of disappointment. His clothes were not the
exquisite raiment that he had worn as an exhibit in the window. The
white spats, the sponge-bag trousers with the knife-edge crease, the
gold-rimmed eye-glass, the well-cut morning coat, the too assertive
waistcoat--all were the property of the Auto-extensor Co. and not to be
worn out of business hours. He now wore a shabby tweed suit and a cap.
But he was still a noticeable figure; a happy smile came into the faces
of little boys as he went past.

"Like your job?" I said shyly, as I took the seat next to him on the top
of the omnibus.

He replied rather gruffly that he supposed a bloke had to work for his
living, and all work was work, whatever way you looked at it. Further
questions elicited that the pay was satisfactory, but that he did not
regard the situation as permanent