The Argosy — page 67: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

54 Far Normandy. ancient umbrella, who had taken my new one in a mistake for his own in coming away from a dinner-party the previous evening—these things are always mistakes, and always at the expense of the victim— I found that stick and umbrella were not forthcoming. H. C. pro- tested that he had left nothing behind him, and I could not have brought them from home. However, on writing a letter of inquiry to the lost property office, at Victoria, in due time I received the follow- ing reply: “ Srr,—Your stick and umbrella—the latter very old and slightly disfigured with holes in the silk and one or two broken ribs—were found in a first-class railway compartment, at Newhaven, and have, as usual in such cases, been forwarded to the London Bridge Lost Property Office. May we suggest to the gentleman who left them behind, that the new-fashioned waterproof, of which the little cape is finished off with hooks, whereon to hang umbrellas, small parcels, guide books, old china and similar articles, would be found useful, and would save further losses on your journey ?” This was an excellent idea that had never struck us—though we thought the Lost Property Office at Victoria slightly presuming in offering advice. To see H. C. going about like a perambulating suspending machine or rotatory roasting-jack, would certainly be pro- ductive of what in these days one so earnestly seeks and so seldom finds—a new sensation. But the Missing Property Office, like the Frenchman in the fable, had lost sight of greater possibilities. Before many days were over, H. C. came to me with a countenance expres- sive of greater misery than I had ever thought countenance could assume; he had lost his mackintosh. Of course any articles sus- pended from the cape would have gone with it. Passing in due time through the shed, and following like sheep in the footsteps of the crowd, we saw, far down the quay, the Dieppe boat getting up steam. It was quite a warm day and the sun shone brilliantly, though it was the end of September, and all the Michaelmas bills were pro- bably passing through the post for those who had Michaelmas bills to pay ; and all the Michaelmas geese had quacked their last requiem, had been dressed and eaten by that large class of the community who would rather be guilty of high treason than depart from the obser- vance of ancient customs ; especially when those customs concern the pleasures of the table. How long, for instance, would the Lord Mayor’s show continue if the Lord Mayor’s banquet were put an end to? It can be nothing but that glorious anticipation which sustains the great dignitary and all the lesser lights of the Civic List, in their conspicuous progress through wards and boundaries, through ‘‘ Chepe and Bar” on each recurring ninth of November. It may indeed be said, that men are heroes and know it not. We steamed out of Newhaven in full sunshine, which played and CONNICLOOOKS, EC)