r else a fool who knows
nothing about it.

'Well, sir, of course it's our very plainest gun'--the weapon is
tossed carelessly into the background--'in fact, we sometimes call
it our gamekeeper gun. Now, here is a really fine thing--neatly
finished, engraved plates, first choice stock, the very best walnut,
price----' He names a sum very close to D.'s outside.

I handle the weapon in the same manner, and for the life of me
cannot meet his eye, for I know that he is reading me, or thinks he
is, like a book. With the exception that the gun is a trifle more
elaborately got up, I cannot see or feel the slightest difference,
and begin secretly to suspect that the price of guns is regulated
according to the inexperience of the purchaser--a sort of sliding
scale, gauged to ignorance, and rising or falling with its density!
He expatiates on the gun and points out all its beauties.

'Shooting carefully registered, sir. Can see it tried, or try it
yourself, sir. Our range is barely three-quarters of an hour's ride.
If the stock doesn't quite fit your shoulder, you can have
another--the same price. You won't find a better gun in all London.'

I can see that it really is a very fair article, but do not detect
the extraordinary excellencies so glibly described. I recollect an
old proverb about the fool and the money he is said to part with
hastily. I resolve to see more variety before making the final
plunge; and what the eloquent shopkeeper thinks is my growing
admiration for the gun which I continue to handle is really my
embarrassment, for as yet I am not hardened, and dislike the idea of
leaving the shop without making a purchase after actually touching
the goods. But D.'s money--I must lay it out to the best advantage.
Desperately I fling the gun into his hands, snatch up the catalogue,
mutter incoherently, 'Will look it through--like the look of the
thing--call again,' and find myself walking aimlessly along the
pavement outside.

An unpleasant sense of having played a rather small part lingered
for some time, and ultimately resolved itself into a determination
to make up my mind as to exactly what D. wanted, and on entering the
next shop, to ask to see that, and that only. So, turning to the
address of another gunmaker, I walked towards it slowly, revolving
in my mind the sort of shooting D. usually enjoyed. Visions of green
fields, woods just beginning to turn colour, puffs of smoke hanging
over the ground, rose up, an