particular line--as wood-carving, or stone, metal, clay or glass work;
or in making or using colors? or have you only that general knowledge of
the various arts which would enable you to assist the more skilled in
preparing materials?"

"No, I am not an artist," I replied, surprised at his question. "All I
can do is to buy the clothes--to pay for them in money."

"What do you mean by that? What is money?"

"Surely----" I began, but fortunately checked myself in time, for I had
meant to suggest that he was pulling my leg. But it was really hard to
believe that a person of his years did not know what money was. Besides,
I could not answer the question, having always abhorred the study of
political economy, which tells you all about it; so that I had never
learned to define money, but only how to spend it. Presently I thought
the best way out of the muddle was to show him some, and I accordingly
pulled out my big leather book-purse from my breast pocket. It had an
ancient, musty smell, like everything else about me, but seemed pretty
heavy and well-filled, and I proceeded to open it and turn the contents
on the table. Eleven bright sovereigns and three half-crowns or florins,
I forget which, rolled out; then, unfolding the papers, I discovered
three five-pound Bank of England notes.

"Surely this is very little for me to have about me!" said I, feeling
greatly disappointed. "I fancy I must have been making ducks and drakes
of a lot of cash before--before--well, before I was--I don't know what,
or when, or where."

Little notice was taken of this somewhat incoherent speech, for all were