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Then with the consoling Miss Parcher's arm about her, and Mr. Watson even more dazzled with love than when he had first met her, some three hours past, she made her way between the tubs, and passed on down the street. "Hi yah!" exclaimed Genesis. "'At lady go'n a 'rest ev'y man what own a dog, 'f she had her way!" But William spoke no word.
Parcher's optimism the effect of so much unavoidable observation of young love had been fatal; he declared repeatedly that his faith in the human race was about gone.
"I'll tell you, though, boys, what I did hear: George's missus went into the gents' wear department at Parcher's to buy him some collars, and before she could give his neck-size the clerk slips her some thirteens. 'How juh know the size? says Mrs. Babbitt, and the clerk says, 'Men that let their wives buy collars for 'em always wear thirteen, madam. How's that! That's pretty good, eh?
Parcher's peculiar view of what constituted the romantic element. And upon another subject preoccupying both Mr. Parcher and William, their two views, though again founded upon one thought, had no real congeniality. The preoccupying subject was the imminence of Miss Pratt's departure; neither Mr. Parcher nor William forgot it for an instant.
Parcher's gate; he halted and looked down fondly upon this child who seemed to have read his soul. "Do you honestly think so?" he asked. "Well, anyway, Mr. Parcher," said Jane, "mamma said well, she said she's sure Willie wouldn't come here in the evening any more when YOU're at home, Mr.
Watson joined the other group with alacrity, and the five young people were presently seated close together upon the steps of the porch, sending their voices out upon the air and up to Mr. Parcher's window in the song they found loveliest that summer. Miss Pratt carried the air. William also carried it part of the time and hunted for it the rest of the time, though never in silence.
"He'll come in the afternoons, I guess," said Jane. "But you aren't home then, Mr. Parcher, except late like you were that day of the Sunday-school class. It was on account of what you said that day. I told mamma." "Told your mamma what?" "What you said." Mr. Parcher's perplexity continued. "What about?" "About Willie. YOU know!" Jane smiled fraternally. "No, I don't."
He was in here awhile ago and said he wanted to leave his because he didn't have time to take it to be pressed in time for next winter. Then he went on and joined that crowd in Mr. Parcher's yard, around the corner, that's goin' on a trolley-party. I says, 'I betcher mother maje carry it, and he says, 'Oh no. Oh no, he says.
That brought him within sight of the gaily dressed young people, about thirty in number, gathered upon the small lawn beside Mr. Parcher's house. Miss Pratt stood among them, in heliotrope and white, Flopit nestling in her arms.
No matter what else played upon the surface of their attention, each kept saying to himself, underneath: "This is the last night the last night! Miss Pratt is going away going away to-morrow!" Mr. Parcher's expression was peaceful. It was more peaceful than it had been for a long time.
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