he shop.

"I want," he told the salesman, "something in a rough, coarse,
common-looking suit--something such as a day labourer might wear."

The salesman was momentarily puzzled, yet seemed to see light.

"Yes, sir--right this way, sir," and he led his customer back between
the lines of tables piled high with garments. He halted and spanned the
chest of the customer with a tape measure. From halfway down a stack of
coats he pulled one of the proper size.

"Here's a snappy thing, sir, fitted in at the back--belted--cuffs on
the trousers, neat check----"

But the customer waved it aside impatiently.

"No, no! I want something common--coarse cloth, roughly made, no style;
it mustn't fit too well."

The salesman deliberated sympathetically.

"Ah, I see--masquerade, sir?"

The customer again manifested impatience.

"No, no! A suit such as a day labourer might wear--a factory worker, one
of the poorer class."

The salesman heightened his manifestation of sympathy.

"Well, sir"--he deliberated, tapping his brow with a pencil, scanning
the long line of garments--"I'm afraid we're not stocked with what you
wish. Best go to a costumer, sir, and rent one for the night perhaps."

The customer firmly pushed back a pendent lock of hair and became
impressive.

"I tell you it is not for a masquerade or any foolishness of that sort.
I wish a plain, roughly made, common-looking suit of clothes, not too
well fitting--the sort of things working people wear, don't you
understand?"

"But certainly, sir; I understand perfectly. This coat here is what the
working people are buying; sold a dozen suits myself this week to some
of the mill workers--very natty, sir, and only sixty-five dollars. If
you'll look closely at the workers about town you'll see the same
suits--right dressy, you'll notice. I'm afraid the other sort of thing
has gone a little out of style; in fact, I don't believe you'll be able
to find a suit such as you describe. They're not being made. Workers are
buying this sort of garment." He picked up the snappy belted coat and
fondled its nap affectionately. "Of course, for a fancy-dress party----"

"No, no, no! I tell you it isn't a masquerade!"

The salesman seemed at a loss for further suggestions. The customer's
eye lighted upon a pile of coats farther down the line.

"What are those?"

"Those? Corduroy, sir. Splendid garments--suitable for the woods,
camping, hunting, fishing. We're well stocked with hu