Mr. Stevens stopped at the door of one of these establishments, and paused to take a slight survey of the premises before entering. The doorway was hung with coats of every fashion of the last twenty years, and all in various stages of decay. Some of them looked quite respectable, from much cleaning and patching; and others presented a reckless and forlorn aspect, as their worn and ragged sleeves swung about in the evening air. Old hats, some of which were, in all probability, worn at a period anterior to the Revolution, kept company with the well-blacked shoes that were ranged on shelves beside the doorway, where they served in the capacity of signs, and fairly indicated the style of goods to be purchased within. Seeing that there were no buyers in the store, Mr. Stevens opened the door, and entered. The sounds of his footsteps drew from behind the counter no less a personage than our redoubtable friend Kinch, who, in the absence of his father, was presiding over the establishment. "Well, Snowball," said Mr. Stevens, "do you keep this curiosity-shop?" "My name is not Snowball, and this ain't a curiosity-shop," replied Kinch. "Do you want to buy anything?" "I believe I do," answered Mr. Stevens. "Let me look at some coats--one that I can get on--I won't say fit me, I'm indifferent about that--let me see some of the worst you've got." Kinch looked surprised at this request from a gentleman of Mr. Stevens's appearance, and handed out, quite mechanically, a coat that was but slightly worn. "Oh, that won't do--I want something like this," said Mr. Stevens, taking down from a peg a very dilapidated coat, of drab colour, and peculiar cut. What do you ask for this?" "That's not fit for, a gentleman like you, sir," said Kinch. "I'm the best judge of that matter," rejoined Mr. Stevens. "What is the price of it?" "Oh, that coat you can have for a dollar," replied Kinch. "Then I'll take it. Now hand out some trowsers." The trowsers were brought; and from a large number Mr. Stevens selected a pair that suited him. Then adding an old hat to his list of purchases, he declared his fit-out complete. "Can't you accommodate me with some place where I can put these on?" he asked of Kinch; "I'm going to have a little sport with some friends of mine, and I want to wear them." Kinch led the way into a back room, where he assisted Mr. Stevens to array himself in his newly-purchased garments. By the change in his attire he seemed completely robbed of all appearance of respectability; the most disagreeable points of his physique seemed to be brought more prominently forward by the habiliments he had assumed, they being quite in harmony with his villanous countenance. Kinch, who looked at him with wonder, was forced to remark, "Why, you don't look a bit like a gentleman now, sir."