rs--being
inferior to him in mental agility and resourcefulness who, he
confidently intended, should shortly follow his desires.

All at once, before he had spoken a word, before he had even seen the
look on their countenances, he realized that he stood on the threshold
of a new world, a system of society of which he was ignorant and by
whose undivined laws he was suddenly to be judged.

Everything was wrong and strangely uncomfortable. His derby hat was
too small--as it was--and must look ridiculous; his trousers were
short and his arms seemed to rush from his sleeves. He tried
desperately to thrust back the cuff that had broken loose and stooped
for his bag. It would have been wiser to have embraced it bodily, but
he breathed a prayer and grasped the handle. Then he started up the
walk; half way, the handle tore out and the bag went down with a
crash.

He dove at it desperately, poking back the threatened avalanche of
linen, and clutching it in his arms as a bachelor carries a baby,
started blindly for the house.

A roar of laughter had gone up at his discomfiture, succeeded by a
sudden, solemn silence. Then the White Mountain Canary pillowed
against the knees of Cheyenne Baxter, spoke:

"No old clothes, Moses; nothing to sell to-day."

At this Butsey White's lathery face suddenly appeared at the
second-story window.

"He doesn't want to buy--he wants to sell us something," he said.
"Patent underwear and all that sort of thing."

Stover, red to the ears, advanced to the steps and stopped.

"Well?" said the Coffee-colored Angel as the guardian of the steps.

"I'm the new boy," said Stover in a gentle voice.

"The what?"

"The new boy."

"Impossible!"

"He's not!"

"New boys always say 'sir,' and take off their hats politely."

The White Mountain Canary looked at Tough McCarty, who solemnly
interrogated the Coffee-colored Angel, who shook his head in utter
disbelief and said:

"I don't believe it. It's a blind. I wouldn't let him in the house."

"Please, sir," said Stover hastily, doffing his derby, "I am."

"Prove it," said a voice behind him.

"Say, I'm not as green as all that."

Stover smiled a sickly smile, shifted from foot to foot and glanced
hopefully at his fellow-imps to surprise a look of amusement. But as
every face remained blank, serious and extremely critical, the smile
disappeared in a twinkling and his glance went abruptly to his toes.

"He certainly should prove it," said