The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1886-12-08
The Professors New Coat.

going 10 nave ulnner-party au Ine
Grange-of learned gentlemen, and
that papa is to be invited?'
Fanny Leslie flung her little crochet
cap into the air, and caught it again
with the deXterity of sleight-o
performer.
Max Lynfeld, who was sitting on the
low stone stile that separated the we'll
kept grounds of the Grange from the
weedy wilderness of the Leslie estate
with gun balanced on his shoulder
and a game bag slung over his back,
nodded emphatically.
All the scientific lights of the con-
vention are to be invited" said be.
premium. Don't you wish you were a
learned old fudge-eh, Fan? OF course
your governor is to be invited. Doesn't
he know the most about Egyptology
and ancient Roman lettering of any
old gentleman in the land? Isn't Pro-
fessor Tolmaine especially anxious to
make his acquaintance? And isn't DR..
Lebrun going to bring in his waistcoat
pocket a slab of stone Clipped off from
the nose of some Assyrian statue or
other for him to identify? What are
you looking so sober about? Jealous
because you can't join the company?
Pm sorry for you, Fanny; but you had
no business to be a woman"
{" 1t isn't that" said Fanny, with lu-
dicrous solemnity. What day is the
dinner to be, MAXI"
"The 18th. Just two weeks from
to-day. But | say, Fan, what are you
in such hurry for?"
{" It's almost sundown," said Miss
Leslie, gathering her scarf about her
shoulders in hurried way. and |
have wasted ever so much time here
already. Goodbye, Maxi"
Yes; but | say, Fanny y
The only response to his appeal was
the light, quick sound of the girls foot
steps, as she fitted away over the car
pet of autumn leaves that covered the
path into the yellow mist of the Oc-
tober afternoon.
" What pretty girl that is! " Max
Lynfield murmured to himself. Her
eyes are exactly the color of a hazel
nut. But | don't see why she need be
in such hurry"
And he disconsolately picked up the
game-bag, which he had unbuckled
from his shoulder, and strobe away
whistling.
4hCdlN ullc IdullN Idu SDcu 10 lDG
dreary, old-fashioned stone house.
blotched with mildew and full of
spectral silence, where old Mr.. Leslie
sat, specialized and absorbed, among his
books, and Alma the eldest daughter,
was in the kitchen making a damson
pudding for dinner.
She looked up as Fanny came fly
ing in.
&c thought you never were coming,
Fam said she. "Did YOU bring the
powdered sugar."
Here it is" and Fanny flung lit
tie paper on the table. But oh,
Alma. the dinner-party at the Grange
is to be on the 18th, and papa is to be
one of the invited guests!"
Alma Leslie paused in her task of
sprinkling snowy sugar over the crushed
purple damsons in the plate.
sob, Fanny" said she. But of
course he can't go. He has no coat fit
to be seen at dinner party at Colonel
Lynfeld's house,
"Alma, he must go!''
" How can he, Fanny?"
:" 1t will be such a treat for him,
Alma, to meet those scientific gentle
men and get glimpse of the world he
Y.
owe must manage it somehow"
Alma knitted her black brows together.
How much money is there in the
drawer, FAM" she asked, abruptly.
81 don't know-fifteen dollars,
think"
"That proves the impossibilty of
our fine dinner-party, FAM said Alma.
struggling her shoulders. 6 Fifteen
1,a
cloth for new coat"
Fanny looked gravely at her sister.
WE'LL" said she, 4" that is all /
want; give me the cloth and I'll make
the coat"
"What nonsense, Fannyp'
1t isn't nonsense at all.n
You make broadcoth coatp'
"Why shouldn't L? Didn't | make
a cloth ulster for myself, and make it
well, too?"
I" But you are not tailor"
III be tailoress, which is just as
good"
You have no pattern, Fan"
" can rip papa's old coat apart, and
get the pattern from that. Where is it?
Is he wearing it now?"
GO He has got on that old dressing
gown of his" said Alma.
"Then get the coat-that's a dear
and rip it carefully apart" said Fanny
while | go down to the store and buy
the broadcloth. We haven't second
to lose"
The next two days were days of cut
ting, stitching, pressing, calculating, in
the big, sunny south room which the
Leslie girls called their boudoir.
Old Mr.. Leslie sat among his dusty
tones and ponderous dictionaries, with
a pencil behind each ear and a pen in
his hand, making notes and scribbine
off paragraphs, all unconscious of what
was going on around him.
"If Pm to be at that party of savants, y
he said to Alma, | must settle this ques
ton as to the authenticity of the EudiC
monographs"
Certainly, papa" said Alma, in an
distracted way, as she hemmed new
black silk cravat, and pondered as tC
the practicabilty of new gloves, anC
whether her father would wear them il
they were bought.
g Papa" said Fanny, the evening
before the eventful day, Z" we want you