ount. He did so, but one morning later when he went in to buy a
waistcoat the rude and inefficient service he met disgusted him so that
he has not been back since. He knew exactly what he wanted and asked for
it. "Oh, no," answered the smart young clerk. "You don't want that.
People have not been wearing waistcoats like that for years. This is
what you want," and he exhibited a different style altogether. It
happened that Mr. Hopkins knew better than the clerk what he wanted,
and the fact that people had not been wearing waistcoats like it made no
difference to him. As a matter of fact, the only reason the clerk made
the remark was that he did not have them in stock, and thought perhaps
he could sell by substituting.

There are other haberdasheries where the service is distinctly good, but
Mr. Hopkins decides to go to a department store instead. Haberdasheries,
however excellent, do not carry toys for one's baby nor presents for
one's wife.

Helpem's store has been warmly recommended. He will go there. It is his
first visit.

When he enters the door he is bewildered by an array of women's scarfs
and gloves and perfume bottles, handkerchiefs and parasols, handbags,
petticoats, knick-knacks, and whatnot. He almost loses courage and
begins backing toward the door when he catches sight of a man in uniform
standing near the entrance. He sees that this man is directing the tides
of shoppers that are surging in, and approaches him.

"Where can I find the trunks?"

"Third floor. Elevator in the rear," the man answers briefly (but not
gruffly). People who have to answer thousands of questions must be
brief.

As he passes down the aisle Mr. Hopkins, who is very observant, notices
that all of the girls--most of the clerks are girls--are dressed in a
pleasant gray. This gives an agreeable uniform tone to a large
establishment which would break up into jarring patches of color if each
clerk were allowed to wear whatever color happened to strike her fancy.
Good idea, Mr. Hopkins thinks, very necessary where there are many, many
clerks.

He does not have much trouble getting the trunk. He knows pretty well
what he wants, and the obliging salesman convinces him that the trunk
will probably last forever by assuring him that an elephant could dance
a jig on it and never make a dent. He asks Mr. Hopkins if he wants his
name on it. Mr. Hopkins had not thought of it, but he does. No, upon
second thought, he will have only his initi