Some time ago，I discovered that one of the chairs in my front hall had a broken leg.I didn’t foresee any great difficulty in getting it mended，as there are a whole lot of antique shops on Pimlico Road which is three minutes’walk from my flat，so I set forth one morning carrying the chair with me.I went into the first shop confidently expecting a friendly reception，with a kindly man saying，’What a charming chair!Yes ，that’s quite a simple job.When would you want it back？’
I was quite wrong.I wasn’t too concerned；after all，it was only the first try and there are many more shops on both sides of the road.
The reaction at the second shop，though slightly politer，was just the same，and at the third and the fourth --so I decided that my approach must be wrong.
I entered the fifth shop with some confidence because I had thought of a plan.The rather fierce shop owner looked it over carefully and said，’Yes，not a bad little chair，how much do you want for it？’’￡20，’I said.’It’s got a slightly broken leg，’I said.’Yes，I saw that.It’s nothing；don’t worry about it.’
’What will you do with it？’I asked.’Oh，it will be very saleable once the repair is done，I like the bit of old green velvet on the top，I shall leave that，yes，very saleable.’’I’ll buy it，’I said.’Yes，I know，but I’ve changed my mind；as a matter of fact，it is just what I’m looking for.I’ve got a pair to it at home；I’ll give you ￡27for it.’’You must be crazy，’he said；then suddenly the penny dropped and he smiled and said，’I know what you want，you want me to mend your chair.’
’And what would you have done if I had walked in and asked you to repair it ’for me？’’I wouldn’t have done it，’he said.’We don’t do repairs，not enough money in it and too much of a nuisance，but I’ll mend this for you.’

The author was not worried about the broken leg of the chair at first because（）.