'Hope, she's terrible proud,
an' if they should hev a leetle fiddlin' an' dancin' some night we'd
want t' be as stylish as any on em. B'lieve I'll go'n git me a spang,
bran' new suit, anyway, 'fore we go up t' Fuller's.'
As we neared the city we both began feeling a bit doubtful as to
whether we were quite ready for the ordeal.
'I ought to,' I said. 'Those I'm wearing aren't quite stylish enough,
I'm afraid.'
'They're han'some,' said Uncle Eb, looking up over his spectacles,
'but mebbe they ain't just as splendid as they'd orter be. How much
money did David give ye?'
'One hundred and fifty dollars,' I said, thinking it a very grand sum
indeed.
''Tain't enough,' said Uncle Eb, bolting up at me again. 'Leastways
not if ye're goin' t' hev a new suit. I want ye t' be spick an' span.'
He picked up his trousers then, and took out his fat leather wallet.
'Lock the door,' he whispered.
'Pop goes the weasel!' he exclaimed, good-naturedly, and then he
began counting the bills.
'I'm not going to take any more of your money, Uncle Eb,' I said.
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