or his boyhood friend Charles Baxter lived there.
Writing from Samoa in later years he says that one memory stands out
above all others of his youth--Rutland Square. And while that was of
course only the imaginative fervour of the moment, yet we were glad to
know that in that quiet little cul de sac behind the railway terminal we
were on ground well loved by Tusitala.

The first evening, and almost every twilight while we were in Auld
Reekie, we found our way to 17 Heriot Row--famous address, which had
long been as familiar to us as our own. I think we expected to find a
tablet on the house commemorating the beloved occupant; but no; to our
surprise it was dark, dusty, and tenantless. A sign TO SELL was
prominent. To take the name of the agent was easy. A great thought
struck us. Could we not go over the house in the character of
prospective purchasers? Mifflin and I went back to our smoking room and
concocted a genteel letter to Messrs. Guild and Shepherd, Writers to the
Signet.

Promptly came a reply (Scots business men answer at once).

16 Charlotte Square, Edinburgh.

26th July, 1911

DEAR SIR,

17 HERIOT ROW

We have received your letter regarding this house. The house can be
seen at any time, and if you will let us know when you wish to view
it we shall arrange to have it opened.

We are,

Yours faithfully,

GUILD AND SHEPHERD.

Our hearts were uplifted, but now we were mightily embarrassed as to the
figure we would cut before the Writers to the Signet. You must remember
that we were two young vagabonds in the earliest twenties, travelling
with slim knapsacks, and much soiled by a fortnight on the road. I was
in knickerbockers and khaki shirt; Mifflin in greasy gray flannels and
subfusc Norfolk. Our only claims to gentility were our monocles. Always
take a monocle on a vagabond tour: it is a never-failing source of
amusement and passport of gentility. No matter how ragged you are, if
you can screw a pane in your eye you can awe the yokel or the tradesman.

The private records of the firm of Guild and Shepherd doubtless show
that on Friday, July 28, 1911, one of their polite young attaches,
appearing as per appointment at 17 Heriot Row, was met by two eccentric
young gentlemen, clad in dirty white flannel hats, waterproof capes,
each with an impressive monocle. Let it be said to the honour of the
attache in question that he showed no symptoms of surprise o