t have higher wages; he wasn't over strong and his mother said he
must lead an open-air life--that was why he had taken the place. To be
bearded thus in his own shop was too much for Mr. Farmiloe, he seized the
opportunity of giving his wrath full swing, and burst into a frenzy of
vilification. Just as his passion reached its height (he stood with his
back to the door) there entered a lady who wished to make a large purchase
of disinfectants. Alarmed and scandalised at what was going on, she had no
sooner crossed the threshold than she turned again, and hurried away. Her
friends were not long in learning from her that the new chemist was a most
violent man, a most disagreeable person--the very last man one could think
of doing business with.

The home was but poorly furnished, and Mr. Farmiloe had engaged a very
cheap general servant, who involved him in dirt and discomfort. It was a
matter of talk among the neighbouring tradesmen that the chemist lived in a
beggarly fashion. When the dismissed errand-boy spread the story of how he
had been used, people jumped to the conclusion that Mr. Farmiloe drank.
Before long there was a legend that he had been suffering from an acute
attack of delirium tremens.

The post-office, always the post-office. If he sat down at a meal the
shop-bell clanged, and hope springing eternal, he hurried forth in
readiness to make up a packet or concoct a mixture; but it was an old lady
who held him in talk for ten minutes about rates of postage to South
America. When, by rare luck, he had a prescription to dispense (the hideous
scrawl of that pestilent Dr. Bunker) in came somebody with letters and
parcels which he was requested to weigh; and his hand shook so with rage
that he could not resume his dispensing for the next quarter of an hour.
People asked extraordinary questions, and were surprised, offended, when he
declared he could not answer them. When could a letter be delivered at a
village on the north-west coast of Ireland? Was it true that the
Post-Office contemplated a reduction of rates to Hong-Kong? Would he
explain in detail the new system of express delivery? Invariably he
betrayed impatience, and occasionally he lost his temper; people went away
exclaiming what a _horrid man_ he was!

'Mr. What's-your-name,' said a shopkeeper one day, after receiving a short
answer, 'I shall make it my business to complain of you to the
Postmaster-General. I don't come here to be insulted.'

'Who