gallantly picked them up, I was struck with the disproportionate amount
of five-sous French stamps. Some one, I reasoned, must write very
regularly from France to the neighbourhood of Stallbridge-le-Carthew.
Could it be Norris? On one stamp I made out an initial C; upon a second
I got as far as CH; beyond which point the postmark used was in every
instance undecipherable. CH, when you consider that about a quarter of
the towns in France begin with "chateau," was an insufficient clue; and
I promptly annexed the plainest of the collection in order to consult
the post-office.

The wretched infant took me in the fact.

"Naughty man, to 'teal my 'tamp!" she cried; and when I would have
brazened it off with a denial, recovered and displayed the stolen
article.

My position was now highly false; and I believe it was in mere pity that
Mrs. Higgs came to my rescue with a welcome proposition. If the
gentleman was really interested in stamps, she said, probably supposing
me a monomaniac on the point, he should see Mr. Denman's album. Mr.
Denman had been collecting forty years, and his collection was said to
be worth a mint of money. "Agnes," she went, on, "if you were a kind
little girl, you would run over to the 'All, tell Mr. Denman there's a
connaisseer in the 'ouse, and ask him if one of the young gentleman
might bring the album down."

"I should like to see his exchanges too," I cried, rising to the
occasion. "I may have some of mine in my pocket-book, and we might
trade."

Half an hour later Mr. Denman arrived himself with a most unconscionable
volume under his arm.

"Ah, sir," he cried, "when I 'eard you was a collector I dropped all.
It's a saying of mine, Mr. Dodsley, that collecting stamps makes all
collectors kin. It's a bond, sir; it creates a bond."

Upon the truth of this I cannot say; but there is no doubt that the
attempt to pass yourself off for a collector falsely creates a
precarious situation.

"Ah, here's the second issue!" I would say, after consulting the legend
at the side. "The pink--no, I mean the mauve--yes, that's the beauty of
this lot. Though of course, as you say," I would hasten to add, "this
yellow on the thin paper is more rare."

Indeed I must certainly have been detected, had I not plied Mr. Denman
in self-defence with his favourite liquor--a port so excellent that it
could never have ripened in the cellar of the Carthew Arms, but must
have been transported, under cloud of night, f