street and number, went, back to his office. There was much
mysterious whispering between Ephraim and Jethro in the hotel parlor
after dinner, while Cynthia was turning over the leaves of a magazine,
and then Ephraim proposed going out to see the sights.

"Where's Uncle Jethro going?" she asked.

"He'll meet us," said Ephraim, promptly, but his voice was not quite
steady.

"Oh, Uncle Jethro!" cried Cynthia, "you're trying to get out of it. You
remember you promised to meet us in Washington."

"Guess he'll keep this app'intment," said Ephraim, who seemed to be full
of a strange mirth that bubbled over, for he actually winked at Jethro.
went first to Faneuil Hall. Presently they found themselves among the
crowd in Washington Street, where Ephraim confessed the trepidation
which he felt over the coming supper party: a trepidation greater, so
he declared many times, than he had ever experienced before any of his
battles in the war. He stopped once or twice in the eddy of the crowd to
glance up at the numbers; and finally came to a halt before the windows
of a large dry-goods store.

"I guess I ought to buy a new shirt for this occasion, Cynthy," he said,
staring hard at the articles of apparel displayed there: "Let's go in."

Cynthia laughed outright, since Ephraim could not by any chance have
worn any of the articles in question.

"Why, Cousin Ephraim," she exclaimed, "you can't buy gentlemen's things
here."

"Oh, I guess you can," said Ephraim, and hobbled confidently in at the
doorway. There we will leave him for a while conversing in an undertone
with a floor-walker, and follow Jethro. He, curiously enough, had some
fifteen minutes before gone in at the same doorway, questioned the
same floor-walker, and he found himself in due time walking amongst a
bewildering lot of models on the third floor, followed by a giggling
saleswoman.

"What kind of a dress do you want, sir?" asked the saleslady,--for we
are impelled to call her so.

"S-silk cloth," said Jethro.

"What shades of silk would you like, sir?"

"Shades? shades? What do you mean by shades?"

"Why, colors," said the saleslady, giggling openly.

"Green," said Jethro, with considerable emphasis.

The saleslady clapped her hand over her mouth and led the way to another
model.

"You don't call that green--do you? That's not green enough."

They inspected another dress, and then another and another,--not all of
them were green,--Jethro expressing