in this
place. He poked his rubicund face out from the shadow of the chaise's
canopy and peered to right and to left. There was a smile in his puckery
eyes. When there were trees ahead of him, trees behind him, and trees
all about he pulled his old horse to a standstill.

He listened, squinted quizzically through the glass of his chaise's rear
curtain, and then climbed down. From a box at the rear of the vehicle he
secured various articles of clothing and draped them over his arm.
There was a frock-coat, not too badly worn, trousers in good repair,
waistcoat, and a shirt. He also took out of the box a pair of shoes and
a hat. With this load he went to the roadside and began to rig out a
fence-post. When the garments were hung on it and the broad-brimmed,
black, slouch-hat had been jauntily set on top of the post, anybody
could see that the old gentleman was thus disposing of some of his own
extra clothing. He was wearing a similar hat and a frock-coat, himself,
and the decorated post took on a bizarre and slouchy resemblance to its
decorator.

He went back to the chaise and found a nickel alarm-clock in the box. He
wound this up carefully and propped it on a rail of the fence near the
clothing.

Before he could escape from the vicinity of the exhibit and get into
his chaise a wagon came rattling around the bend of the road. There were
firkins and jars in the rear of this wagon and the driver was plainly a
farmer-man.

He pulled up short and then saluted the old gentleman with a stab of
forefinger at his hat-brim.

"Any trouble, Judge?" he inquired, affably.

"None at all," replied the old gentleman, edging away from the fully
garbed fence-post.

"Airing 'em out, hey?" A jab of the forefinger toward the garments.

"No, leaving them out."

All at once the old gentleman appeared to remember something else. He
took off his hat and produced a placard. He straightened it and stuck it
into a crack in a fence-rail. Its legend was "Help Yourself."

"You're giving them clothes away, are you, Judge Peterson?"

"I am leaving them here for any one who chooses to take them. Do you
want first pick, Jolson?"

"Not me! I ain't taking charity hand-me-downs from any man, Judge. If
it's a polite question, why are you giving away your duds this way?"

"I think you have just answered that question, Jolson. I offered you
these clothes. Your nose went into the air. Other men have acted in the
same way in the past when I have