easy. I went in and pointed to one I liked, and
paid for it, and walked out with it, feeling a little braver. After
all, nobody had to know there was nothing in it. On the corner, I saw
some books displayed in the window of a drug store. It took all the
courage I had to go in there, after my first trip into one that looked
very much like it, but I wanted a dictionary. This place didn't smell
quite so strong; I suppose the pharmacy was enclosed in back, and I
don't believe it had a lunch counter. Anyhow, I got in and out
quickly, and walked back to the car, and sat down with the dictionary.

It turned out to be entirely useless, at least as far as _brunchies_
and _Bermudas_ were concerned. It had "scuff, v.," with a definition;
"v.," I found out, meant _verb_, so that wasn't the word I wanted, but
when I remembered the slippers on the counter with the sign, it made
sense in a way.

Not enough sense, though. I decided to forget about the clothes for a
while. The next problem was a driver's license.

The policeman that morning had been helpful, if over-interested, and
since policemen directed traffic, they ought to have the information I
wanted. I found one of them standing on a streetcorner looking not too
busy, and asked him, and if his hair hadn't been brown instead of
reddish (and only half there) I'd have thought it was the same one I
talked to before. He wanted to know how old I was, and where was I
from, and what I was doing there, and did I have a car, and was I
_sure_ I was nineteen?

Well, of course, I wasn't sure, but they'd told me that by the local
reckoning, that was my approximate age. And I almost slipped and said
I _had_ a car, until I realized that I didn't have a right to drive
one till I had a license. After he asked that one question, I began to
feel suspicious about everything else he asked, and the interest he
expressed. He was helpful, but I had to remember too, that it was the
police who were charged with watching for suspicious characters,
and--well, it was the last time I asked a policeman for information.

He _did_ tell me where I could rent a car to take my road test,
though, and where to apply for the test. The Courthouse turned out to
be the big building behind the square where I'd parked the car that
morning, and arranging for the test turned out to be much simpler
than, by then, I expected it to be. In a way, I suppose, all the
questions I had to answer when I talked to the policeman h