s did
very well, but still I was dissatisfied: I wanted A PAIR OF BOOTS. Three
boys in the school had boots--I was mad to have them too.

But my papa, when I wrote to him, would not hear of it; and three
pounds, the price of a pair, was too large a sum for my mother to take
from the housekeeping, or for me to pay, in the present impoverished
state of my exchequer; but the desire for the boots was so strong, that
have them I must at any rate.

There was a German bootmaker who had just set up in OUR town in those
days, who afterwards made his fortune in London. I determined to have
the boots from him, and did not despair, before the end of a year or
two, either to leave the school, when I should not mind his dunning me,
or to screw the money from mamma, and so pay him.

So I called upon this man--Stiffelkind was his name--and he took my
measure for a pair.

"You are a vary yong gentleman to wear dop-boots," said the shoemaker.

"I suppose, fellow," says I, "that is my business and not yours. Either
make the boots or not--but when you speak to a man of my rank, speak
respectfully!" And I poured out a number of oaths, in order to impress
him with a notion of my respectability.

They had the desired effect. "Stay, sir," says he. "I have a nice littel
pair of dop-boots dat I tink will jost do for you." And he produced,
sure enough, the most elegant things I ever saw. "Day were made," said
he, "for de Honorable Mr. Stiffney, of de Gards, but were too small."

"Ah, indeed!" said I. "Stiffney is a relation of mine. And what, you
scoundrel, will you have the impudence to ask for these things?" He
replied, "Three pounds."

"Well," said I, "they are confoundedly dear; but, as you will have a
long time to wait for your money, why, I shall have my revenge you see."
The man looked alarmed, and began a speech: "Sare,--I cannot let dem go
vidout"--but a bright thought struck me, and I interrupted--"Sir! don't
sir me. Take off the boots, fellow, and, hark ye, when you speak to a
nobleman, don't say--Sir."

"A hundert tousand pardons, my lort," says he: "if I had known you were
a lort, I vood never have called you--Sir. Vat name shall I put down in
my books?"

"Name?--oh! why, Lord Cornwallis, to be sure," said I, as I walked off
in the boots.

"And vat shall I do vid my lort's shoes?"

"Keep them until I send for them," said I. And, giving him a patronizing
bow, I walked out of the shop, as the German tied up my shoes in p