The Saturday before last I ventured to ask whether, if the hundred-and-fifty pounder always insisted on arriving two seconds before me, it wouldn't be possible to cash my cheque, which is a simple little thing, in one of the intervals during which, after sending to the cellars for more gold, they relapse into easy conversation; or, alternatively, if it was really necessary to pay a customer exactly the complicated bunches of monies he demanded; and, if so, whether it couldn't be done any quicker.
The answer proving unsatisfactory I determined to arrive earlier last Saturday. I made no mistake. I hung about the door of the bank for a quarter of an hour till I saw my rival approach. I came in just ahead of him, and presented my cheque. The cashier received it with his usual little smile and turned it over. Then his usual little smile left him and he set sadly to work.
The hundred-and-fifty pound man chafed and stamped his feet behind me for ten minutes, while I gloated. It was my day—my Tag.
I think you may like to know just in what shape I demanded the payment of my modest fifty shillings:—
| £ | s. | d. | |
| 1 | 0 | 0 | in one pound notes. |
| 0 | 10 | 0 | in ten shilling notes. |
| 0 | 10 | 0 | in gold. |
| 0 | 5 | 0 | in shilling postal orders. |
| 0 | 2 | 0 | in threepenny bits. |
| 0 | 0 | 9½ | in halfpennies. |
| 0 | 1 | 10¼ | in farthings. |
| 0 | 0 | 4 | in silver, if possible (otherwise stamps). |
| 0 | 0 | 0¼ | in pins. |
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| 2 | 10 | 0 |
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