ng line of windmills.

All this while he had been sauntering along at the idlest pace, with
a score of pauses. Suddenly he bethought him that it must be time to
return, and was about to do so when his eye was caught by a little
shop on the other side of the road. He could not read the
inscription above it; but the window was crowded with bulbs and roots
of all kinds and bags of seed in small stacks. He crossed the road
and entered the low door, meaning to buy a present for Sophia, whom
for the last half an hour he had completely forgotten.

The proprietor of the shop sat inside behind a low counter, reading a
book by the light of a defective oil-lamp, the smoke of which had
smeared the rafters in a large, irregular circle. He was a little,
wizened man, with a pair of horn spectacles, which he pushed high
upon his brow as his customer entered.

"Since my father has engaged to buy Sophia a ring," said Tristram to
himself, "I will get her a tulip. We will sit hand in hand and watch
it unfold."

The prospect so engaged his fancy that he entered and began a
sentence in excellent English. The shopman replied by shaking his
head and uttering a few unintelligible words.

This was dashing. Tristram cast about for a few seconds, and began
again in dog-Latin, a tongue which he had acquired in order to read
the herbals to Captain Barker on winter evenings. To his delight the
little man answered him promptly. Within a minute they were charmed
with each other; within two, they had the highest opinion of each
other; within ten, the counter was heaped with trays of the rarest
bulbs, insomuch that Tristram found a grave difficulty in choosing
that which should give the greatest pleasure to his Sophia. But,
alas, in changing clothes with his son, Captain Salt had found it
unnecessary to change breeches! Tristram put a hand into his pocket
and discovered that it contained one coin only--the shilling with
which he had been presented when forcibly enlisted in his Majesty's
Coldstream Guards.

The Latin of the enthusiastic shopman was becoming almost Ciceronian,
when Tristram pulled out the coin, and holding it under his nose
briefly stated the case. Then the wizened face fell a full inch, and
the eloquent voice broke off to explain that an English shilling,
though doubtless a valid tender in England, was not worth more than a
stiver, if that, to a Dutch tradesman.

Tristram apologised, adding that, if the shopman had a