"What do you think of that?" he asked. "Could you put up with that?" George fitted it on before the glass, and, choosing another remark from the book, said: "This hat fits me sufficiently well, but, tell me, do you consider that it becomes me?" The man stepped back and took a bird's-eye view. "Candidly," he replied, "I can't say that it does." He turned from George, and addressed himself to Harris and myself. "Your friend's beauty," said he, "I should describe as elusive. It is there, but you can easily miss it. Now, in that cap, to my mind, you do miss it." At that point it occurred to George that he had had sufficient fun with this particular man. He said: "That is all right. We don't want to lose the train. How much?" Answered the man: "The price of that cap, sir, which, in my opinion, is twice as much as it is worth, is four-and-six. Would you like it wrapped up in brown paper, sir, or in white?" George said he would take it as it was, paid the man four-and-six in silver, and went out. Harris and I followed. At Fenchurch Street we compromised with our cabman for five shillings. He made us another courtly bow, and begged us to remember him to the Emperor of Austria. Comparing views in the train, we agreed that we had lost the game by two points to one; and George, who was evidently disappointed, threw the book out of window. We found our luggage and the bicycles safe on the boat, and with the tide at twelve dropped down the river. CHAPTER V A necessary digression--Introduced by story containing moral--One of the charms of this book--The Journal that did not command success--Its boast: "Instruction combined with Amusement"--Problem: say what should be considered instructive and what amusing--A popular game--Expert opinion on English law--Another of the charms of this book--A hackneyed tune--Yet a third charm of this book--The sort of wood it was where the maiden lived--Description of the Black Forest. A story is told of a Scotchman who, loving a lassie, desired her for his wife. But he possessed the prudence of his race. He had noticed in his circle many an otherwise promising union result in disappointment and dismay, purely in consequence of the false estimate formed by bride or bridegroom concerning the imagined perfectability of the other. He determined that in his own case no collapsed ideal should be possible. Therefore, it was that his proposal took the following form: "I'm but a puir lad, Jennie; I hae nae siller to offer ye, and nae land." "Ah, but ye hae yoursel', Davie!" "An' I'm wishfu' it wa' onything else, lassie. I'm nae but a puir ill- seasoned loon, Jennie." "Na, na; there's mony a lad mair ill-looking than yoursel', Davie." "I hae na seen him, lass, and I'm just a-thinkin' I shouldna' care to." "Better a plain man, Davie, that ye can depend a' than ane that would be a speirin' at the lassies, a-bringin' trouble into the hame wi' his flouting ways."