was
very sure that there would not now be so many people in it.

Just here, however, Jasper met with a disappointment. Not only was
every one there who had been there the day before, but most of them had
brought friends, and in dismay Jasper clung to the post near the door
while he tried to rally his courage for the plunge. In the distance
the frock-coated man was still the rock where the stream foamed and
broke; and after a long wait and a longer struggle Jasper stood once
more before him.

"I want slippers--bed-slippers for women," he muttered.

"Fourth floor, front. Elevator to your left," declaimed the man. And
Jasper quite glowed with awe at the thought of a brain so stupendous
that it could ticket and tell each shelf and counter in that vast
domain of confusion.

Jasper himself had been swept to the right on the crest of a
particularly aggressive wave formed by the determined shoulders of a
huge fat woman who wished to go in that direction; so it was some time
before he could stem the current and make an effort to reach the
elevator on the other side of the store. It was then that he suddenly
decided to grasp this opportunity for "looking about a little to find
something for Uncle Harold"--and it was then that he was lost, for no
longer had he compass, captain, or a port in view; but oarless and
rudderless he drifted.

Then, indeed, did the department store, in all its allurements of
glitter and show and competing attractions, burst on Jasper's eyes,
benumbing his senses and overthrowing his judgment. For long minutes
he hung entranced above a tray of jeweled side combs, and for other
long minutes he critically weighed the charms of a spangled fan against
those of one that was merely painted--before he suddenly awoke to the
realization that he was looking for something for Uncle Harold, and
that Uncle Harold did not wear side combs, nor disport himself with
gauze fans.

"Where do you keep things for men?" he demanded then, aggrievedly, of
the demure-faced girl behind the counter; and it was while he was on
the ensuing frantic search for "things for men" that he stumbled upon
the book department.

"To be sure--a book for Jimmy," he muttered, and confidently approached
a girl who already was trying to wait on three customers at once.

"I want a book for a boy," he observed; and was surprised that no one
answered.

"I want a book for a boy," he urged, in a louder tone.

Still no one answered.