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