_Episcopal Butler._ "OH YES, MA'AM. HE'S _BETTER_ TO-DAY! WE'RE ALL
SAYING HE'S GOING TO DISAPPOINT 'EM _YET_!"]

* * * * *

CONFESSIONS OF A DUFFER.

IV.--THE DUFFER AS COLLECTOR.

I may be a Duffer, but I hope I am neither an idiot nor a cad. I have
never collected postage-stamps, nor outraged common humanity by asking
people to send me their autographs. With these exceptions I have
failed as a collector of almost everything. To succeed you need luck,
and a dash of unscrupulousness, and careful attention to details,
and a sceptical habit of mind. Even as a small boy I used to waste my
shillings at a funny little curiosity-shop, kept by a nice old lady
who knew no more about her wares than I did. Here I acquired quite
a series of old coppers, which Mrs. SOMERVILLE said were ancient
Bactrian. We asked where Bactria was, and she replied that it was a
"country beyond Cyrus." We answered that Cyrus was not a territorial
but a personal name, "A fellow, don't you know, not a place," but
the old lady's information stopped there. I wonder where my Bactrian
Collection is now. Certainly I never sold it; indeed, I never sold
anything; not only because nobody would buy, but because, after
all, one is a Collector, not a tradesman. Birds' eggs I would have
collected if I could, but you had first to find the bird's nest
(almost an impossible quest for a born Duffer), and to blow the eggs,
which, let me tell you, needs nicety of handling. I did once find
a thrush's nest, and tried blowing an egg, but it was not wholly a
success, and the egg (the contents of which I accidentally absorbed)