glass, the fellow gets
to be rather a nuisance. Indeed, we had just as much objection to
walking out with Fred Fop as we had with Jack Sloven; one was quite as
unpleasantly conspicuous as the other.

It was often a marvel to some of us how it came to be allowed for a boy
to dress as Fred did. You should have seen him coming down the stairs
on Sunday, as we were about to start for church, putting on a lavender
glove, and taking a couple of minutes to adjust his hat to the proper
angle on his head.

How he minced along the pavement, dreading to speck his exquisite boots,
and how artlessly he would carry one glove in his hand, in order to show
oil his elegant ring. His umbrella was the size of an ordinary young
lady's parasol, and as for his collars--of course it was impossible to
turn his head one way or the other with those things sticking up on
either side. He always insisted on having the inside of the pavement,
in order to avoid the splashing of the cabs; and invariably entered
church last, having occupied a certain time in the porch (so it was
said) to make sure his necktie was properly tied, and that the corner of
his handkerchief was hanging sufficiently far out of his breast-pocket,
and that the expression of his countenance was sufficiently interesting.
Having satisfied himself on these points, he advanced up the aisle in
procession with himself, and scented the whole building in his triumphal
progress.

It is hardly to be wondered at that Master Fop became the victim of all
sorts of practical jokes. If by any chance one of the fellows should
happen to be pitching water out of the window, it was an extraordinary
coincidence that Fred in his grand hat was nearly always walking
underneath. Another time, when some of the elder boys were allowed to
attend a grand concert in the village, Fred of course was in his glory,
and took every means to create a sensation by his elaborate toilet. And
so he did! For as he sauntered beautifully up the hall to his seat in
front, he was wholly unconscious that a startling label was hanging
gracefully on the back buttons of his coat with this legend inscribed
thereon--

"Look here! Our noted 50 shilling suit! A bargain!"

It was not till he went to sit down that he discovered the heartless
joke, and then--but we may as well draw a veil over his confusion.
Suffice it to say he did not enjoy the concert a bit.

But he was by no means cured of his vanity. No, not even