"No thanks, as usual," grumbled Mr. James as he returned to his gum
and his scissors. "Might as well have left him to snatch the book."

Here, however, James was wrong, because it is the first duty of an
assistant to hinder and obstruct the book-snatcher, who carries on his
work by methods of crafty and fraudulent exchange rather than by plain
theft, which is a mere brutal way. For, first, the book-snatcher marks
his prey; he finds the shop which has a set containing the volume
which is missing in his own set; next, he arms himself with a volume
which closely resembles the one he covets, and then, on pretense of
turning over the leaves, he watches his opportunity to effect an
exchange, and goes away rejoicing, his set complete. No collector, as
is very well known, whether of books, coins, pictures, medals, fans,
scarabs, book-plates, autographs, stamps, or anything else, has any
conscience at all. Anybody can cut out slips and make a catalogue, but
it requires a sharp assistant, with eyes all over his head like a
spider, to be always on guard against this felonious and unscrupulous
collector.

Next, there came two schoolboys together, who asked for and bought a
crib to "Virgil;" and then a girl who wanted some cheap French
reading-book. Just as the clock began to strike five, Mr. Emblem
lifted his head and looked up. The shop-door opened, and there stepped
in, rubbing his shoes on the mat as if he belonged to the house, an
elderly gentleman of somewhat singular appearance. He wore a fez cap,
but was otherwise dressed as an Englishman--in black frock coat, that
is, buttoned up--except that his feet were incased in black cloth
shoes, so that he went noiselessly. His hair was short and white, and
he wore a small white beard; his skin was a rather dark brown; he was,
in fact, a Hindoo, and his name was Lala Roy.

He nodded gravely to Mr. James and walked into the back shop.

"It goes well," he asked, "with the buying and the selling?"

"Surely, Lala, surely."

"A quiet way of buying and selling; a way fit for one who meditates,"
said the Hindoo, looking round. "Tell me, my friend, what ails the
child? Is she sick?"

"The child is well, Lala."

"Her mind wandered this morning. She failed to perceive a simple
method which I tried to teach her. I feared she might be ill."

"She is not ill, my friend, but I think her mind is troubled."

"She is a woman. We are men. There is nothing in the world that is
able to t