t almost as old and peculiar as himself. Whether he made
anything out of it or whether he lived upon private means is now unknown
and does not matter. Anyway, when there was something of antiquarian
interest or value to be bought, generally he had the money to pay for
it, though at times, in order to do so, he was forced to sell something
else. Indeed these were the only occasions when it was possible to
purchase anything, indifferent hosiery excepted, from Mr. Potts.

Now, I, the Editor, who also love old things, and to whom therefore Mr.
Potts was a sympathetic soul, was aware of this fact and entered into
an arrangement with the peculiar assistant to whom I have alluded, to
advise me of such crises which arose whenever the local bank called Mr.
Potts's attention to the state of his account. Thus it came about that
one day I received the following letter:--

Sir,

The Guv'nor has gone a bust upon some cracked china, the ugliest that
ever I saw though no judge. So if you want to get that old tall clock at
the first price or any other of his rubbish, I think now is your chance.
Anyhow, keep this dark as per agreement.

Your obedient, Tom.

(He always signed himself Tom, I suppose to mystify, although I believe
his real name was Betterly.)

The result of this epistle was a long and disagreeable bicycle ride in
wet autumn weather, and a visit to the shop of Mr. Potts. Tom, alias
Betterly, who was trying to sell some mysterious undergarments to a fat
old woman, caught sight of me, the Editor aforesaid, and winked. In a
shadowed corner of the shop sat Mr. Potts himself upon a high stool, a
wizened little old man with a bent back, a bald head, and a hooked
nose upon which were set a pair of enormous horn-rimmed spectacles that
accentuated his general resemblance to an owl perched upon the edge of
its nest-hole. He was busily engaged in doing nothing, and in staring
into nothingness as, according to Tom, was his habit when communing with
what he, Tom, called his "dratted speerits."

"Customer!" said Tom in a harsh voice. "Sorry to disturb you at your
prayers, Guv'nor, but not having two pair of hands I can't serve a
crowd," meaning the old woman of the undergarments and myself.

Mr. Potts slid off his stool and prepared for action. When he saw,
however, who the customer was he bristled--that is the only word for it.
The truth is that although between us there was an inward and spiritual
sympathy, there was also an ou