he fashion of
the time. Each cravat, as to color, was in perfect taste, so far as its
owner's complexion was concerned--a delicate pink, in the case of the
blond brother, a violent scarlet in the case of the brunette--but as
a combination they broke all the laws of taste known to civilization.
Nothing more fiendish and irreconcilable than those shrieking and
blaspheming colors could have been contrived. The wet boots gave no
end of trouble--to Luigi. When they were off at last, Angelo said, with
bitterness:

"I wish you wouldn't wear such tight boots, they hurt my feet."

Luigi answered with indifference:

"My friend, when I am in command of our body, I choose my apparel
according to my own convenience, as I have remarked more than several
times already. When you are in command, I beg you will do as you
please."

Angelo was hurt, and the tears came into his eyes. There was gentle
reproach in his voice, but, not anger, when he replied:

"Luigi, I often consult your wishes, but you never consult mine. When
I am in command I treat you as a guest; I try to make you feel at home;
when you are in command you treat me as an intruder, you make me feel
unwelcome. It embarrasses me cruelly in company, for I can see that
people notice it and comment on it."

"Oh, damn the people," responded the brother languidly, and with the air
of one who is tired of the subject.

A slight shudder shook the frame of Angelo, but he said nothing and the
conversation ceased. Each buttoned his own share of the nightshirt in
silence; then Luigi, with Paine's Age of Reason in his hand, sat down
in one chair and put his feet in another and lit his pipe, while Angelo
took his Whole Duty of Man, and both began to read. Angelo presently
began to cough; his coughing increased and became mixed with gaspings
for breath, and he was finally obliged to make an appeal to his
brother's humanity:

"Luigi, if you would only smoke a little milder tobacco, I am sure I
could learn not to mind it in time, but this is so strong, and the pipe
is so rank that--"

"Angelo, I wouldn't be such a baby! I have learned to smoke in a week,
and the trouble is already over with me; if you would try, you could
learn too, and then you would stop spoiling my comfort with your
everlasting complaints."

"Ah, brother, that is a strong word--everlasting--and isn't quite fair.
I only complain when I suffocate; you know I don't complain when we are
in the open air."

"Well,