aham, at |
| the Union Stock Yards |
| in Chicago, to his son, |
| Pierrepont, care of The |
| Hoosier Grocery Co., |
| Indianapolis, Indiana. |
| Mr. Pierrepont's orders |
| have been looking up, so |
| the old man gives him a |
| pat on the back--but not |
| too hard a one. |
+----------------------------+

XIII

CHICAGO, May 10, 189-

_Dear Pierrepont:_ That order for a carload of Spotless Snow Leaf from
old Shorter is the kind of back talk I like. We can stand a little more
of the same sort of sassing. I have told the cashier that you will draw
thirty a week after this, and I want you to have a nice suit of clothes
made and send the bill to the old man. Get something that won't keep
people guessing whether you follow the horses or do buck and wing dancing
for a living. Your taste in clothes seems to be lasting longer than the
rest of your college education. You looked like a young widow who had
raised the second crop of daisies over the deceased when you were in here
last week.

Of course, clothes don't make the man, but they make all of him except
his hands and face during business hours, and that's a pretty
considerable area of the human animal. A dirty shirt may hide a pure
heart, but it seldom covers a clean skin. If you look as if you had
slept in your clothes, most men will jump to the conclusion that you
have, and you will never get to know them well enough to explain that
your head is so full of noble thoughts that you haven't time to bother
with the dandruff on your shoulders. And if you wear blue and white
striped pants and a red necktie, you will find it difficult to get close
enough to a deacon to be invited to say grace at his table, even if you
never play for anything except coffee or beans.

Appearances are deceitful, I know, but so long as they are, there's
nothing like having them deceive for us instead of against us. I've seen
a ten-cent shave and a five-cent shine get a thousand-dollar job, and a
cigarette and a pint of champagne knock the bottom out of a
million-dollar pork corner. Four or five years ago little Jim Jackson
had the bears in the provision pit hibernatin