The circumstances under which I first saw my old Delft apothecary jars were so painful, so mortifying, that for a long time I could not bear even to think of them; but now, as years have passed and softened the sharp lines, I will write account of that unique adventure. We were one day, as was our wont, hunting in old Narragansett for ancient china and colonial furniture, but even on that historic and early-settled ground had met with scant success. At last, on an out-of-the-way road, was found a clew. We were driving slowly along, when the door of a long, low wood-shed opened, and an elderly man walked out on the single broad stone step and stood, in the lazy country fashion, staring openly and sociably at us as we passed by. He had in one hand a piece of dark wood which he was slowly rubbing with sand-paper. We had driven past his door when my companion suddenly exclaimed: “That man had a claw-foot.” “A claw-foot!” I answered in astonishment; “what do you mean?--a cloven foot or a club-foot, perhaps?” “No, you goose; that man had in his hand a claw-foot--the leg of a chair, I am sure, and I am going back to see to what it belongs.” So we whisked the pony around and drove to the door where the claw-footed man still stood, and we then saw in the one dingy window a small sign bearing the words +------------------+ | ELAM CHADSEY | | GENERAL REPAIRER | +------------------+ “Are you Mr. Chadsey?” my fellow china-hunter asked. “We saw you with something that looked old-fashioned in your hand, and we thought you might have or know of some antique furniture or old crockery that the owners would be willing to sell.” “Wal, I ain’t got any to sell; I only mend furnitoor. I’ve got a couple of tall clocks in here repairin’, but they ain’t mine, so I can’t sell ’em. N-o--I don’t know of none--except--What furnitoor do you want?” “Oh, anything, almost, that is old, and china especially; any old blue pie-plates or such things.”