The master draper himself, who was standing all the while in the shop admiring the patience and perseverance of the old man, and feeling a little compunction for the unceremonious manner in which he had been treated, came now forward, examined the contents of the pack; found them to be articles he stood in need of; purchased them; ordered an additional regular supply; and thus laid the foundation of an opulent mercantile house that has now flourished for several generations.
The subjoined well-known and diverting story may not inappropriately conclude this chapter—
The Professor of Signs, or Two Ways of Telling a Story.
King James the Sixth, on removing to London, was waited upon by the Spanish ambassador, a man of erudition, but who had an eccentric idea in his head that every country should have a Professor of Signs to enable men of all languages to understand each other without the aid of speech. The ambassador lamenting one day, before the king, this great desideratum throughout all Europe, the king, who was an outré character, said to him, “I have a Professor of Signs in the most northern college in my dominions, viz., at Aberdeen; but it is a great way off—perhaps 600 miles.”
“Were it 10,000 leagues off, I shall see him,” said the ambassador, and expressed determination to set out instanter, in order to have an interview with the Scottish Professor of Signs.
The king, perceiving he had committed himself, wrote, or caused to be written, an intimation to the University of Aberdeen, stating the case, and desiring the professors to put him off, or make the best of him they could. The ambassador arrived, and was received with great solemnity. He immediately inquired which of them had the honour to be Professor of Signs, but was told that the professor was absent in the Highlands, and would return nobody could say when.
“I will,” said he, “wait his return though it were for twelve months.”
The professors, seeing that this would not do, contrived the following stratagem:—there was in the city one, Geordie, a butcher, blind of an eye—a droll fellow with much wit and roguery about him. The butcher was put up to the story, and instructed how to comport himself in his new situation of “Professor of Signs,” but he was enjoined on no account to utter a syllable. Geordie willingly undertook the office for a small bribe. The ambassador was then told, to his infinite satisfaction, that the Professor of Signs would be at home next day. Everything being prepared, Geordie was gowned, wigged, and placed in a chair of state, in a room in the college, all the professors and the ambassador being in an adjoining room. The Spaniard was then shown into Geordie’s room, and left to converse with him as best he could, the whole of the professors waiting the issue with considerable anxiety. Then commenced the scene. The ambassador held up one of his fingers to Geordie; Geordie held up two of his. The ambassador held up three; Geordie clenched his fist and looked stern. The ambassador then took an orange from his pocket, and showed it to the new-fangled professor; Geordie in return pulled out a piece of barley cake from his pocket, and exhibited it in a similar manner. The ambassador then bowed to him, and retired to the other professors, who anxiously inquired his opinion of their brother.
“He is a perfect miracle,” said the ambassador, “I would not give him for the wealth of the Indies.”
“Well,” exclaimed one of the professors, “to descend to particulars, how has he edified you?”