with two little meerschaums,
which I christened Romulus and Remus. They lay together in one case in
Regent Street, and it was with difficulty that I could pass the shop
without going in. Often I took side streets to escape their glances, but
at last I asked the price. It startled me, and I hurried home to the
brier.

I forget when it was that a sort of compromise struck me. This was
that I should present the pipes to my brother as a birthday gift. Did
I really mean to do this, or was I only trying to cheat my conscience?
Who can tell? I hurried again into Regent Street. There they were, more
beautiful than ever. I hovered about the shop for quite half an hour
that day. My indecision and vacillation were pitiful. Buttoning up my
coat, I would rush from the window, only to find myself back again in
five minutes. Sometimes I had my hand on the shop door. Then I tore it
away and hurried into Oxford Street. Then I slunk back again. Self
whispered, "Buy them--for your brother." Conscience said, "Go home."
At last I braced myself up for a magnificent effort, and jumped into
a 'bus bound for London Bridge. This saved me for the time.

[Illustration]

I now began to calculate how I could become owner of the
meerschaums--prior to dispatching them by parcel-post to my
brother--without paying for them. That was my way of putting it.
I calculated that by giving up my daily paper I should save thirteen
shillings in six months. After all, why should I take in a daily paper?
To read through columns of public speeches and police cases and murders
in Paris is only to squander valuable time. Now, when I left home I
promised my father not to waste my time. My father had been very good
to me; why, then, should I do that which I had promised him not to
do? Then, again, there were the theatres. During the past six months
I had spent several pounds on theatres. Was this right? My mother, who
has never, I think, been in a theatre, strongly advised me against
frequenting such places. I did not take this much to heart at the time.
Theatres did not seem to me to be immoral. But, after all, my mother
is older than I am; and who am I, to set my views up against hers? By
avoiding the theatres for the next six months, I am (already), say,
three pounds to the good. I had been frittering away my money, too,
on luxuries; and luxuries are effeminate. Thinking the matter over
temperately and calmly in that way, I saw that I should be thoughtfully
savin