Another thing which adds to the burden of a day’s shopping is the difficulty of describing what you want in the jargon that will lead you to the right counter. What properly brought up person knows whether stockings are “drapery” or “outfitting”? It all depends on how you want to wear them, one would suppose. In fact, I believe they are “hosiery.” And yet, if I could force myself to say “hosiery” to the liftman, I should probably find that in addition to the hosiery being straight through on the left, and therefore in the next street but two, it meant gent.’s up-to-date footwear only, and that ladies’ stockings were in the haberdashery, second turning on the right and across the road as you leave Shaftesbury Avenue. I sometimes wonder whether there are people who in private life call their garments by the names used in shops, and if not, where is the use of annoying harmless decent people by these words? I asked James what a “singlet” was and he said he did not know. “Well then,” I said, “do you suppose that the shopman who sold me these vests for you says to his wife: ‘My dear, why have you allowed the cat to sleep on my singlet?’ and if so, does she know what he means? and how can she bear to live with him?” “If she really cared for him,” James answered, “she would not mind if he called it an antimacassar. The only thing that mattered would be that she should remove the cat and feel heartily ashamed of herself.” “Do you know, it cost me an hour’s argument to get those vests for you because I refused to buy them as singlets and the man wouldn’t sell them as vests. I won in the end because he was getting tired and there were so many people waiting. I think he saw I was serious. But it wasted a fearful lot of time. And now, again, what do you call these?” “Draws,” said James in one syllable. “Quite so, that is how I was brought up; but do you realise that the young lady in the shop would not give me anything but ‘knickers’? It made me feel so tweedy, and golfish, and detestable, that I would not buy any.” “Very silly,” he commented. “Besides, no one plays golf in knickers. It is an impossible word. It sounds like ready-made Fauntleroys for young gentlemen.” “Thank you a thousand times,” I said, “that is just the word I was looking for. I shall always call them Fauntleroys in future. And now about skirts.” “What about skirts?” he asked. “Do you call a skirt a thing that you put on over or under?” “I call the top one a skirt and the under one a petticoat,” said James, after reflection.