"One indimat" caused us some trouble in the best bedroom, but finally a strip of straw matting, two feet by one, was hauled out from its lurking-place under the washstand, whither it had crept for concealment, and reluctantly answered to its name. The crockery was heterogeneous, and was slumped under colour-headings. "Three cupps pink; one sosir pink; three cupps blew; four sosirs blew (one crack)," and so on. That searching inventory went right to the root of things, and by its _fiat-justitia-ruat-c[oe]lum_ candour impressed me most favourably with the stark, staring, straight-forward honesty of Mr. Joseph Scorer. "One bird in glass case, bird's leg broke--four orments, all crack--one ormlu clock (won't go)"--could transparent honesty go further than this? Moreover Mr. Scorer asked me casually, "Did you know Mr. William Henry Sawyer, Esquire, of the 'Ome Office?" I did not. My acquaintance does not as a rule extend to the Home Office. "A nice gentleman, 'e is. Been 'ere in this 'ouse every year for the last five years. 'E comes early, about May, and sometimes again in October." "It is good to be Mr. William Henry Sawyer, Esquire, of the Home Office," I said. I am a fairly truthful man as men go, and I never spoke a truer word than that, but that knowledge only came to me later. I was delighted with Mr. Joseph Scorer, and with his receipt in my pocket and my two pounds in his, I went home on the Monday morning triumphant, and on the Monday evening whistled myself into the bosom of my family to the tune of "See, the conquering hero comes." [Illustration: "I WAS SURPRISED TO SEE A HEAP OF LUGGAGE."] I gave a detailed description of my adventures to my receptive family circle, and when my wife heard Mr. Scorer's last message, "I will come over the day before you are coming in, and have the place put in order, and will have a fire on in the kitchen for you," she labelled him "treasure," and vowed we would keep on going there every year. "I wish I had remembered to ask you to tell him to get in some coals, and milk, and bread," she said, regretfully. "I did," I answered, triumphantly. "He suggested we would want them, and I paid him for them, and for oil for the lamps too, so that's all right." "You have done well," said my wife, and I thought so myself. August 12th found us duly landed at Eastnor station, and furtively raking out our belongings from the piles of other people's. At last they were all collected, and I chartered a carriage and a porter's cart to convey us and our luggage to Sandybank Cottage. Mr. Joseph Scorer met us at the door, and we forthwith took possession. The kitchen fire was lighted, the coal was there, and the milk, and the bread, and oil. Everything was as nice as it could be. The luggage was carried in, and we settled down to a month's solid enjoyment and undisputed possession of our new abode.