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Small shop dingy little hole, but that man Schwitzer was an artist. Made garments for all the beaux. Brummel used to draw his own patterns in that shop in that very shop, Dic. Think of wearing a coat made by Brummel's tailor. Remarkable man that, Brummel George Bryan Brummel. Good head, full of good brains. Son of a confectioner; friend of a prince.
"It's fine, Billy Little, it's fine," answered Dic, sorry to see an apparent weakness in his little friend, though loving him better for the sake of it. The past had doubled back on Billy for a day, and he felt a touch of his youth of that olden time when the first dandy of England was heir-apparent to the crown and blubbered over an ill-fitting coat.
Dic completed his arrangements with Sampson, which included the privilege of taking twenty horses on his own account, and then, as usual, went to see Billy Little. "Well, Billy Little," said Dic, joyfully, "I'm going. I've closed with Sampson. He gives me five hundred dollars, and allows me to take twenty horses of my own. I ought to get fine young horses at twenty-five dollars a head."
Many of the old folks, including Billy Little, departed when the bee closed, and a general clamor went up for the kissing games to begin. Rita declined to take part in the kissing games, and sat against the wall with several other young ladies who had no partners. To Dic she gave the candid reason that she did not want to play, and he was glad.
After he had gone Sukey went to the ciphering log and sat gazing meditatively into the fire. Vexation and disappointment alternately held possession of her soul; but Dic was more attractive to her because he was unattainable, and she imagined herself greatly injured and deeply in love.
Billy watched Dic ride eastward on the Michigan road, and muttered to himself: "'Next to me'; there is no next, you young fool." Then he went in to his piano and caressed the keys till they yielded their ineffable sweetness in the half-sad tones of Handel's "Messiah"; afterward, to lift his spirits, they gave him a glittering sonata from Mozart. But it is better to feel than to think.
"Indeed I shall," replied Dic in a tone expressive of the fact that he was a fine, true fellow, and would perform that pleasant duty with satisfaction to himself and great happiness to the girl. You see, Dic's great New York journey had caused him to feel his importance a bit.
Tom, if you find an opportunity, I want you to tell Dic to stay tell him I want him to stay. He must stay with me until Williams goes, even if it is all night. Please do this for me, brother, and I'll do anything for you that you ask I always do." But Tom laughed, and said, "No, I'll not mix in. I like Dic; but, Sis, you're a fool if you don't take Williams. The Tousy girls would jump at him.
He leaned against the table near Miss Margaret Ellison and said, "I I want I have to send a letter to a troop that's in Ohio in a place called called Dansburg. Shall I dic shall I say what I want to tell them?" "Surely," she said cheerily. "Maybe if it isn't just right you can fix it up," he said. "You say it just the way you want to," she encouraged him.
"I'll see Miss Tousy, and she will help us, I'm sure." "Is she sentimentally inclined?" queried Billy. "I don't know." "Is her face round or oval?" "Oval," replied Dic, in some perplexity. "Long oval?" "Rather." "Good!" exclaimed Billy. "Does she talk much or little?" "Little, save at times." "And her voice?" "Low and soft." "Better and better," said Billy. "What does she read?"
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