counter, matching trimmings or selling buttons, known in the trade as “fancy vests.”
Meanwhile, the premises described on a former page had changed hands, and become, as I have said, the property of Mr. Fergusson. The Langham Place frontage was displaced by a row of handsome houses (Mocatta, architect), in the centre of which was an entrance to the new business premises, entirely remodelled, and if less picturesque, more convenient, according to the requirements of the day. The place was now known as the London Carriage Repository (Marks & Co.). The busi- ness done was chiefly the sale of carriages sent in by makers and dealers, on commission. The actual manufacture had decreased very considerably. Here I passed some years of my life in compara- tive idleness. The business, always irksome, never enlisted my energy or liking. My duties were simple, consisting chiefly of making out accounts, and waiting on possible or actual customers. Clients they are called in these days of fine English, when a man’s house is a residence, his shop an em- porium. Once, and once only, I made a sale. Mr. Jacob Bell (the friend of Sir Edwin Land- seer), who was an opposite neighbour, came in wanting a gig. I showed him one at twenty guineas. He bought it at once without any
question of “lowest price.” When I told my
