"Well, Sir, it would take some little time. You would want to wear something to go on with till it's finished."
"There is," I said, "some force in that. Put the machine on me at once."
"The what, Sir?"
"The machine," I said. "The beautifully contrived, apparatus made of ever so many wooden keys like the inside of a piano—only those are set in circles. It fits close to the head and you can make it looser or tighter, and when you've got it on you look like a Siamese king in his crown. And when you take it off you tear out a piece of paper and that gives you the exact measure to a hair's-breadth. Come, I'm ready."
His face relaxed into a serious kind of smile.
"Certainly," he said, "you shall have it on, Sir, if you like. But I thought, being an old customer and your measure being known, it might not be necessary."
"Very well," I said, "I'll give up the machine, but I don't see how I can take any further pleasure in this purchase. Still, if you know me so well——"
"We don't forget customers of thirty years' standing," he said proudly.
"That settles it," I said. "I will now buy four hats—a top-hat, a bowler, a soft felt and a straw hat."
"Yes, Sir," he said, and from an upper tier he extracted a hat-box out of which he shortly produced a top-hat and placed it on my head. It did not fit at first, but fire soon reduced it to obedience.