Every man who had a shade of red in his hair had tramped into the city to answer the advertisement. Fleet Street was choked with red-headed folk, and Pope's court looked like a costas orange barrow. I should not have thought that there were so many in the whole country, as were brought together by that single advertisement. He took a step backward, copped his head on one side, and gazed at my hair until I felt quite bashful. Then suddenly he plunged forward, wrung my hand, shook my hand, and congratulated me warmly on my success. It would be injustice to hesitate, said he. You will, however, excuse me, for taking