the rest and his other property were sold for the benefit of a mystical
brotherhood, for the old fellow was a kind of spiritualist. Therefore,
there is no harm in giving his plebeian name, which was Potts. Mr.
Potts had a small draper's shop in an undistinguished and rarely visited
country town in the east of England, which shop he ran with the help
of an assistant almost as old and peculiar as himself. Whether he made
anything out of it or whether he lived upon private means is now unknown
and does not matter. Anyway, when there was something of antiquarian
interest or value to be bought, generally he had the money to pay for
it, though at times, in order to do so, he was forced to sell something
else. Indeed these were the only occasions when it was possible to
purchase anything, indifferent hosiery excepted, from Mr. Potts.

Now, I, the Editor, who also love old things, and to whom therefore Mr.
Potts was a sympathetic soul, was aware of this fact and entered into
an arrangement with the peculiar assistant to whom I have alluded, to
advise me of such crises which arose whenever the local bank called Mr.
Potts's attention to the state of his account. Thus it came about that
one day I received the following letter:--

Sir,

The Guv'nor has gone a bust upon some cracked china, the ugliest that
ever I saw though no judge. So if you want to get that old tall clock at
the first price or any other of his rubbish, I think now is your chance.
Anyhow, keep this dark as per agreement.

Your obedient, Tom.

(He always signed himself Tom, I suppose to mystify, although I believe