blown, we can
generally discover a multitude of straws which should have shown us
which way it was blowing.
Once, I remembered, in our schoolmaster days, when guineas, though
regular, were few, he had had occasion to increase his wardrobe. If I
recollect rightly, he thought he had a chance of a good position in the
tutoring line, and only needed good clothes to make it his. He took
four pounds of his salary in advance,--he was in the habit of doing
this: he never had any salary left by the end of term, it having
vanished in advance loans beforehand. With this he was to buy two
suits, a hat, new boots, and collars. When it came to making the
purchases, he found, what he had overlooked previously in his
optimistic way, that four pounds did not go very far. At the time, I
remember, I thought his method of grappling with the situation
humorous. He bought a hat for three-and-sixpence, and got the suits and
the boots on the instalment system, paying a small sum in advance, as
earnest of more to come. He then pawned one suit to pay for the first
few instalments, and finally departed, to be known no more. His address
he had given--with a false name--at an empty house, and when the tailor
arrived with his minions of the law, all he found was an annoyed
caretaker, and a pile of letters written by himself, containing his
bill in its various stages of evolution.
Or again. There was a bicycle and photograph shop near the school. He
went into this one day, and his roving eye fell on a tandem bicycle. He
did not want a tandem bicycle, but that influenced him not at all. He
ordered it provisionally. He also ordered an enlarging camera, a kodak,
and a magic lantern. The order was booked, and the goods were to be
delivered when he had made up his mind concerning them. After a week
the shopman sent round to ask if there were any further particulars
which Mr. Ukridge would like to learn before definitely ordering them.
Mr. Ukridge sent back word that he was considering the matter, and that
in the meantime would he be so good as to let him have that little
clockwork man in his window, which walked when wound up? Having got
this, and not paid for it, Ukridge thought that he had done handsomely
by the bicycle and photograph man, and that things were square between
them. The latter met him a few days afterwards, and expostulated
plaintively. Ukridge explained. "My good man," he said, "you know, I
really think we need say no more about the
|