. He jes' gone up again. He 'ain't got no britches, Miz
Baxter."

"No WHAT?"

"No'm," said Adelia. "He 'ain't got no britches at all."

A statement of this kind is startling under Almost any circumstances,
and it is unusually so when made in reference to a person for whom a
party is being given. Therefore it was not unreasonable of Mrs. Baxter
to lose her breath.

"But--it can't BE!" she gasped. "He has! He has plenty!"

"No'm, he 'ain't," Adelia assured her. "An' he's carryin' on so I don't
scarcely think he knows much what he's doin', Miz Baxter. He brung down
some gray britches to the kitchen to see if I couldn' press an' clean
'em right quick: they was the ones Miss Jane, when she's paintin' all
them sunsets, lef' her paint-box open, an' one them sunsets got on these
here gray britches, Miz Baxter; an' hones'ly, Miz Baxter, he's fixed 'em
in a condishum, tryin' to git that paint out, I don't believe it 'll be
no use sendin' 'em to the cleaner. 'Clean 'em an' press 'em QUICK?' I
says. 'I couldn' clean 'em by Resurreckshum, let alone pressin' 'em!'
No'm! Well, he had his blue britches, too, but they's so ripped an' tore
an' kind o' shredded away in one place, the cook she jes' hollered when
he spread 'em out, an' he didn' even ast me could I mend 'em. An' he had
two pairs o' them white flannen britches, but hones'ly, Miz Baxter,
I don't scarcely think Genesis would wear 'em, the way they is now!
'Well,' I says, 'ain't but one thing lef' to do _I_ can see,' I says.
'Why don't you go put on that nice black suit you had las' winter?'"

"Of course!" Mrs. Baxter cried. "I'll go and--"

"No'm," said Adelia. "You don' need to. He's up in the attic now,
r'arin' roun' 'mongs' them trunks, but seem to me like I remember you
put that suit away under the heavy blankets in that big cedar ches' with
the padlock. If you jes' tell me where is the key, I take it up to him."

"Under the bureau in the spare room," said Mrs. Baxter. "HURRY!"

Adelia hurried; and, fifteen minutes later, William, for the last time
that afternoon, surveyed himself in his mirror. His face showed the
strain that had been upon him and under which he still labored; the
black suit was a map of creases, and William was perspiring more freely
than ever under the heavy garments. But at least he was clothed.

He emptied his pockets, disgorging upon the floor a multitude of small
white spheres, like marbles. Then, as he stepped out into the hall, he
discov