ich
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 very decided if not expert views on
each of them. At last he paused before two models at the far end of the
room, passing his hand repeatedly over each as he had done so often with
the cattle of Coniston.

"These two pieces same kind of goods?" he demanded.

"Yes."

"Er-this one is a little shinier than that one?"

"Perhaps the finish is a little higher," ventured the saleslady.

"Sh-shinier," said Jethro.

"Yes, shinier, if you please to call it so."

"W-what would you call it?"

By this time the saleslady had become quite hysterical, and altogether
incapable of performing her duties. Jethro looked at her for a moment in
disgust, and in his predicament cast around for another to wait on him.
There was no lack of these, at a safe distance, but they all seemed to be
a