For answer I drew a bank note from my pocket at random and laid it upon the small counter. "You have, b' James!" quoth the little man, "a fi'-pun note!" And thrusting needle into the garment he was making he rose with brisk alacrity. "What d'ye want in my way, son?" "Everything!" said I. "And here's the place t' get it, b' James! I've everything in clothes from the cradle to the grave--infant, child, youth and man, births, marriages or deaths, 'igh-days or 'olydays--I can fit ye with any style, any size and for any age, occasion or re-quirement." So saying, he ushered me into a small room behind the shop where he proceeded to whisk forth a bewildering array of garments for my inspection, until table and chairs were piled high and myself dazed with their infinite variety. "B' James!" cried the little man, blinking, "I'll turn ye out as nobby a little spark as ever cocked a neye at a sighin' young fe-male. Look at this coat, the roll o' this collar up to your ears, and as for buttons--well, look at 'em--see 'em flash! As for weskits, see 'ere, son, climbin' roses worked into true-lover's knots and all pure silk! Then 'ere's a pair o' pantaloons as no blushin' nymp' could resist--an' you shall 'ave the lot--ah, an' I'll throw in a ruffled shirt--for four-pun' ten--take 'em or leave 'em!" "Thank you, I think I'll leave them," said I. "My desire is for things a little less ostentatious--" "Os-ten--ha, certainly! Say no more, son, look around an' take y'r choice--" At last, and almost in spite of the small tailor, I selected a suit a little less offensive than most, the which I donned forthwith and found it fit me none so ill; shirt, shoes, stockings and a hat completed my equipment, and though the garments were anything but elegant, yet my appearance, so much as I could see of it in the small, cracked mirror, was, on the whole, not displeasing, I thought. At the tailor's suggestion I purchased three extra shirts, as many cravats, stockings and a neckcloth. "And now," said I, as he tied up the somewhat unwieldy parcel, "what do I owe you?" "Well, son--I mean, sir," he answered, peering at me over his spectacles, "them beautiful clothes has turned you from nobody as matters into somebody as do; your credit is rose five hundred, ah, a thousand per cent and I ought to charge ye a couple o' hundred guineas, say--but seein' as you're you an' I'm me--let's call it fi'-pun!"