Dab Kinzer | Page 3

William O. Stoddard
a prime good fellow. I'll do as
much for you some day. Tell you what I'll do, then: I'll have another
suit made right away, of this other cloth, and have the bill for that one
sent to our folks."
"Do it!" exclaimed Ham. "Do it! You've your mother's orders for that.
She's nothing to do with my gift."
"Splendid!" almost shouted Dab. "Oh, but don't I hope they'll fit!"
"Vit," said the tailor: "vill zay vit? I dell you zay vit you like a knife.
You vait und zee."
Dab failed to get a very clear idea of what the fit would be, but it made
him almost hold his breath to think of it.
After the triumphant visit to the tailor, there was still a necessity for a
call upon the shoemaker, and that was a matter of no small importance.
Dab's feet had always been a mystery and a trial to him. If his memory
contained one record darker than another, it was the endless history of
his misadventures with boots and shoes. He and leather had been at war
from the day he left his creeping-clothes until now. But now he was
promised a pair of shoes that would be sure to fit.

So the question of Dab's personal appearance at the wedding was all
arranged between him and Ham; and Miranda smiled more sweetly
than ever before upon the latter, after she had heard her usually silent
brother break out so enthusiastically about him as he did that evening.
It was a good thing for that wedding, that it took place in fine summer
weather; for neither kith, kin, nor acquaintances had been slighted in
the invitations, and the Kinzers were one of the "oldest families."
To have gathered them all under the roof of that house, without either
stretching it out wider or boiling the guests down, would have been out
of the question; and so the majority, with Dabney in his new clothes to
keep them countenance, stood out in the cool shade of the grand old
trees during the ceremony, which was performed near the open door;
and were afterwards served with the refreshments in a style which
spoke volumes for Mrs. Kinzer's good management, as well as for her
hospitality.
The only drawback to Dab's happiness that day was that his
acquaintances hardly seemed to know him. He had had almost the same
trouble with himself, when he looked in the glass that morning.
Ordinarily, his wrists were several inches through his coat-sleeves, and
his ankles made a perpetual show of his stockings. His neck, too,
seemed to be holding his head as far as possible from his coat-collar,
and his buttons had no favors to ask of his button-holes.
Now, even as the tailor had promised, he had received his "first fit." He
seemed to himself, to tell the truth, to be covered up in a prodigal waste
of new cloth. Would he ever, ever, grow too big for such a suit of
clothes as that? It was a very painful thought, and he did his best to put
it away from him.
Still, it was a little hard to have a young lady, whom he had known
since before she began to walk, remark to him,--
"Excuse me, sir, but can you tell me if Mr. Dabney Kinzer is here?"

"No, Jenny Walters," sharply responded Dab, "he isn't here."
"Why, Dabney!" exclaimed the pretty Jenny. "Is that you? I declare,
you have scared me out of a year's growth!"
"I wish you'd scare me, then," said Dab. "Then my clothes would stay
fitted."
Every thing had been so well arranged beforehand, thanks to Mrs.
Kinzer, that the wedding had no chance at all except to go off well.
Ham Morris was rejoiced to find how entirely he was relieved of every
responsibility.
"Don't worry about your house," the widow said to him, the night
before the wedding. "We'll go over there, as soon as you and Miranda
get away, and it'll be all ready for you by the time you get back."
"All right," said Ham. "I'll be glad to have you take the old place in
hand. I've only tried to live in a corner of it. You don't know how much
room there is. I don't, I must say."
Dabney had longed to ask her if she meant to have it moved over to the
Kinzer side of the north fence, but he had doubts as to the propriety of
it; and just then the boy came in from the tailor's with his bundle of
new clothes.
CHAPTER II.
DAB'S OLD CLOTHES GET A NEW BOY TO FIT.
Hamilton Morris was a very promising young man, of some thirty
summers. He had been an "orphan" for a dozen years;
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