There was a great wooden HAND,a glove-maker's sign, which used to swing and creak in the blast, as it hung from a pillar before a certain shop a mile or two outside of the city.

I had a vision of British officers, each with ninety days' pay to his credit, and a damsel or two at home, shopping consumedly.

She shopped contentedly, and enjoyed looking at the prettily dressed women, because she saw none whom she thought as good-looking as herself.

So, at first, did the cheery little girl cashier in the Arcade barber shop downstairs.