e absurd practices of foreign
nations.

The Alien, indeed, seemed to have learned beforehand this curious
peculiarity of the limited English intellect; for he blushed slightly as
he replied, "I know your currency, as a matter of arithmetic, of course:
twelve pence make one shilling; twenty shillings make one pound--"

"Of course," Philip echoed in a tone of perfect conviction; it would
never have occurred to him to doubt for a moment that everybody knew
intuitively those beggarly elements of the inspired British monetary
system.

"Though they're singularly awkward units of value for any one accustomed
to a decimal coinage: so unreasonable and illogical," the stranger
continued blandly, turning over the various pieces with a dubious air of
distrust and uncertainty.

"I BEG your pardon," Philip said, drawing himself up very stiff, and
scarcely able to believe his ears (he was an official of Her Britannic
Majesty's Government, and unused to such blasphemy). "Do I understand
you to say, you consider pounds, shillings, and pence UNREASONABLE?"

He put an emphasis on the last word that might fairly have struck terror
to the stranger's breast; but somehow it did not. "Why, yes," the Alien
went on with imperturbable gentleness: "no order or principle, you know.
No rational connection. A mere survival from barbaric use. A score, and
a dozen. The score is one man, ten fingers and ten toes; the dozen is
one man with shoes on--fingers and feet together. Twelve pence make one
shilling; twenty shillings one pound. How very confusing! And then, the
nomenclature's so absurdly difficult! Which of these is half-a-crown, if
you please, and which is a florin? and what are their respective values
in pence and shillings?"

Philip picked out the coins and explained them to him separately. The
Alien meanwhile received the information with evident interest, as a
traveller in that vast tract that is called Abroad might note the habits
and manners of some savage tribe that dwells within its confines, and
solemnly wrapped each coin up in paper, as his instructor named it for
him, writing the designation and value outside in a peculiarly beautiful
and legible hand. "It's so puzzling, you see," he said in explanation,
as Philip smiled another superior and condescending British smile at
this infantile proceeding; "the currency itself has no congruity or
order: and then, even these queer unrelated coins haven't for the most
part their values ma