"Is anyone looking after you, Sir?" said a gentleman with the air and manners of a diplomatist.
"No," I said; "I want a stocking or two."
"Hosiery department on the ground floor. You can go in the lift;" and he too left me.
Down I went again, plunged head-first through the Ladies' Dress department, and came to an anchor amongst the pipes, cigars, cigarettes and tobacco. Here I bought two pipes, a cigar-cutter, and five match-stands of a very novel design. Having thus paid my footing, I addressed the salesman.
"Take me," I said, "to the Hosiery department."
"Straight on, Sir," he said, "and turn to the right before you get to the musical instruments."
"No, no," I said, "that won't do. I have been trying to get there all day by myself and have failed. I am so very musical. If I go alone I shall be drawn in among the flutes and harmoniums. Conduct me to the hosiery or I shall return the match-stands."
Moved by my appeal he conducted me, and at last reached my haven and made my purchases. When I got home, the headache was gone, and in its place there was a critical spirit which prophesied that all the stockings would certainly be of the wrong size and quality, while the undervests would be equally useless. About the pipes, cigar-cutter and the match-stands I preferred to say nothing at all.
On the whole the visit to Jobson's was a failure. R. C. L.