The Clio messenger. (Clio, Mich.) 1907-current, 1919-01-23

"Your coat is good enough for any
body-ayes !" said she. 'Pll make
you pair o. breeches an then / guess
you won't have to be 'shamed no
more"
She had spent several evenings MAX
ing them out OF an old gray flannel
petticoat of hers and had put two
pockets in them of which / was very
proud. They came just to the tops
Of my shoes, which pleased me, for
thereby the glory of my new shoes
suffered no encroachment.
The next Sunday after they were
finished we had preaching in the
schoolhouse and l was eager to go
and wear my wonderful trousers. I'm
Gle Peabody said that he didn't know
whether his leg would hold out or
not Through a whole meetin'." His
left leg was lame from a wrench and
panied him if he sat long in one po-
sition. l greatly enjoyed this first
public exhibition of my new trous-
ers. i remember praying in silence,
as we sat down, that Uncle PeabOdy's
leg would hold out. Later, when the
long sermon had begun to weary me,
l prayed that it would not.
1t was a beautiful summer morning
as we drove down the hills and from
the summit of the last high ridge we
could see the smoke of steamer
looming over tie St Lawrence and
the big buildings Of Canton on the
distant flats below us. My heart beat
fast when / reflected that l should
soon see Mr. Wright and the Dunkel-
bergs. l had lost little of my inter
est in Sally. Still / felt sure that
when she saw my new breeches she
would conclude that l was a person
not to be trifled with.
When we got to Canton people were
flocking to the big stone Presbyterian
church. 1t was what they called
Mr.. Wright read from the Scriptures,
and having explained that there was
no minister in the village, read one
of Mr.. Edwards sermons, in the
course of which / went to sleep on
the arm of my aunt. She awoke me
when the service had ended, and
whispered:
"Come, we're goin' down to speak
to Mr.. Wright"
l remember Mr.. Wright kissed me
and said:
Hello! Here's my boy in new
pair o. trousers"
"Put yer hand in there" l said
proudly, as / took my own hand out
of one Of my pockets, and pointed
the way.
laughed heartily and gave me little
hug.
When we went out of the church
there stood Mr.. and Mrs. Horace Dun
kelberg, and Sally and some other
children. 1t was a tragic moment for
me when Sally laughed and ran be-
hind her mother. Still worse was It
when couple of boys ran away cry
ing, Look at the breeches"
L looked down at my breeches and
They seemed very splendid to me and
yet / saw at once that they were not
popular. went close to my Aunt
Deel and partly hid myself in her
cloak. / heard Mrs. Dunkelberg say:
"Of course you'll come to dinner
with usT'
For a second my hopes leaped high.
was hungry and visions Of jelly
cake and preserves rose before me. OF
course there were the trousers, but
perhaps Sally would get used to the
trousers and ask me to play with her.
"Thank We, but we've got good
ways to go and we fetched bite
with us--ayes ~ said Aunt Deel.
Eagerly awaited an invitation from
the great Mrs. Dunkelberg that should
be declsively urgent, but she only
said:
I'm very sorry you can't stay"
My hopes fell like bricks and van
ished like bubbles.
The DunkeIbergs left us with pleas
ant words. They had asked me to
shake hands with Sally, but I had
chung to my aunt's cloak and firmly
refused to make any advances. Slow
ly and without word we walked
across the park toward the tavern
sheds.
We had started away up the South
road when, to my surprise, Aunt Deel
mildly attacked the Dunkelbergs.
Those herr village folks like to
be waited ou--ayes '--sp' they're aw-