als stenciled on in dull red,
W. H. H. The trunk will be delivered in the afternoon and he goes away
well satisfied.

The shirts are somewhat more difficult. He is attached to a certain kind
of collar and he likes madras shirts with little black stripes or
figures in them. The man shows him white ones and wide striped ones and
colored ones with the right collar, and he almost decides that the place
does not keep madras shirts with little black figures in them, when he
suddenly realizes that he was so intent on getting the collar that he
forgot to say anything about the material or color. He begins again,
tells the clerk exactly what he wants, and in a few minutes the proper
shirts are before him and he is happy. While the clerk is folding them,
he asks about ties. It is a good thing. Mr. Hopkins remembers that he
has forgotten ties. They have great bargains in ties. He drifts over to
the counter and presently has three lovely ones. One is red, and Mr.
Hopkins resolves to be more careful than he was with the last red one.
His wife burned it. He must keep this hidden.

The ties remind him that he needs a bathrobe. An agreeable clerk sells
him a dull figured bathrobe, comfortable and light for summer and
guaranteed to wash, and tells him that a pajama sale is in progress
about four counters away.

When he has bought six pairs of pajamas he begins to think of the baby's
present. Toys are on the top floor. The girl there--a wise department
store always chooses carefully for this place--is very helpful. She asks
about the baby, how old he is, what toys he has, what toys he has asked
for, and so on. Mr. Hopkins tells her, and after showing him several
ingenious mechanical contrivances, she suggests a train with a real
track to run on. Mr. Hopkins is delighted. The girl asks if the
youngster likes to read. He does not, but he likes to be read to. "Why
don't you take him a book?" and in a few minutes he has the "Just-So
Stories" tucked under his arm. As he leaves the girl smiles, "Come back
to see us," she says.

All the clerks have said this. The clerk who sold the shirts said, while
they stood waiting for the change, that he could depend on them. They
would not shrink and the colors would not run. "We are here in the
city," he continued (the store was in New York), "but we have our
regular customers just as if we were in a small town. We don't try to
make just one sale and get by with it. We want you to come back."

The