fers in front of pool rooms
whispering, "Look at the piker in the rented soup and fish!"

For of course he'd rent one. Nobody bought them--except plutes like
Henry B. Boltwood.

He agitatedly walked up and down for an hour, peering into haberdashery
windows, looking for a kind-faced young man. He found him, in Ye Pall
Mall Toggery Shoppe & Shoes; an open-faced young man who was gazing
through the window as sparklingly as though he was thinking of going as
a missionary to India--and liked curry. Milt ironed out his worried
face, clumped in, demanded fraternally, "Say, old man, don't some of
these gents' furnishings stores have kind of little charts that tell
just what you wear with dress-suits and Prince Alberts and everything?"

"You bet," said the kind-faced young man.

West of Chicago, "You bet" means "Rather," and "Yes indeed," and "On the
whole I should be inclined to fancy that there may be some vestiges of
accuracy in your curious opinion," and "You're a liar but I can't afford
to say so."

The kind-faced young man brought from behind the counter a beautiful
brochure illustrated with photographs of Phoebus Apollo in what were
described as "American Beauty Garments--neat, natty, nobby, new." The
center pages faithfully catalogued the ties, shirts, cuff-links, spats,
boots, hats, to wear with evening clothes, morning clothes, riding
clothes, tennis costumes, polite mourning.

As he looked it over Milt felt that his wardrobe already contained all
these gentlemanly possessions.

With the aid of the clerk and the chart he purchased a tradition-haunted
garment with a plate-armor bosom and an opening as crooked as the
Missouri River; a white tie which in his strong red hands looked as
silly as a dead fish; waistcoat, pearl links, and studs. For the first
time, except for seizures of madness during two or three visits to
Minneapolis motor accessory stores, he caught the shopping-fever. The
long shining counter, the trim red-stained shelves, the glittering
cases, the racks of flaunting ties, were beautiful to him and
beckoning. He revolved a pleasantly clicking rack of ties, then turned
and fought his way out.

He bought pumps--which cost exactly twice as much as the largest sum
which he had allowed himself. He bought a newspaper, and in the
want-columns found the advertisement:

Silberfarb the Society Tailor
DRESS SUITS TO RENT
Snappiest in the City

Despite the superlative snappiness of Mr. Silb