er suit don' look reel
grand. This here one has been purty--purty scrumptious in its day--if I
do say it.'

'You look good enough in anything that's respectable,' I said.

'Kind o' wanted to look a leetle extry good, as ye might say,' said
Uncle Eb, groping in his big carpet-bag. 'Hope, she's terrible proud,
an' if they should hev a leetle fiddlin' an' dancin' some night we'd
want t' be as stylish as any on em. B'lieve I'll go'n git me a spang,
bran' new suit, anyway, 'fore we go up t' Fuller's.'

As we neared the city we both began feeling a bit doubtful as to whether
we were quite ready for the ordeal.

'I ought to,' I said. 'Those I'm wearing aren't quite stylish enough,
I'm afraid.'

'They're han'some,' said Uncle Eb, looking up over his spectacles, 'but
mebbe they ain't just as splendid as they'd orter be. How much money did
David give ye?'

'One hundred and fifty dollars,' I said, thinking it a very grand sum
indeed.

''Tain't enough,' said Uncle Eb, bolting up at me again. 'Leastways not
if ye're goin' t' hev a new suit. I want ye t' be spick an' span.'

He picked up his trousers then, and took out his fat leather wallet.

'Lock the door,' he whispered.

'Pop goes the weasel!' he exclaimed, good-naturedly, and then he began
counting the bills.

'I'm not going to take any more of your money, Uncle Eb,' I said.

'Tut, tut!' said he, 'don't ye try t' interfere. What d' ye think
they'll charge in the city fer a reel, splendid suit?'

He stopped and looked up at me.

'Probably as much as fifty dollars,' I answered.

'Whew-w-w!' he whistled. 'Patty steep! It is sartin.'

'Let me go as I am,' said I. 'Time enough to have a new suit when I've
earned it.'

'Wall,' he said, as he continued counting, 'I guess you've earnt it
already. Ye've studied hard an' tuk first honours an' yer goin' where
folks are purty middlin' proud'n haughty. I want ye t' be a reg'lar high
stepper, with a nice, slick coat. There,' he whispered, as he handed me
the money, 'take thet! An' don't ye never tell 'at I g'in it t' ye.'

I could not speak for a little while, as I took the money, for thinking
of the many, many things this grand old man had done for me.

'Do ye think these boots'll do?' he asked, as he held up to the light
the pair he had taken off in the evening.

'They look all right,' I said.

'Ain't got no decent squeak to 'em now, an' they seem t' look kind o'
clumsy. How're your'n?' he asked.

I got them out