"'Well, I was skittisher than I've been since Gettysburg, not knowing what new-fangled treatment he had in his mind, and how it would agree with me; but he took me into a barber shop where he appeared to know a man, and he did some whispering, and,--well, when that barber got through, first giving me a hair-cut and then a shave, and fussing over my mustache for a spell, and I got a sight of my face in the glass, I thought 'twas somebody else I was looking at, and somebody that I'd seen before, a long time ago, and it wasn't until I tried to brush a fly off my nose that I found 'twas I. Maybe you think I was a fool, but I was so tickled that I yelled, "Whoop--ee!" right out in meeting. "There!" says Jim, when we got outside. "Don't you ever wear long hair and a beard again--not while I'm around." "'Then he took me to a tailor shop about forty times as big as your store, and picked out a suit of clothes for me, and a hat and shirt, and the whole business. 'Twas the Hawk Howlaway business over again, with Jim instead of Jethro, only there was more of it, for he stuck a flower in the buttonhole of my new coat. I couldn't kick, for he was wearing one too, but I just tell you that if I'd met any Claybanks neighbor about then, I'd have slid down a side street like running to a fire. After that he took me to the hotel where he lived, and up in his room, and looked me over, as if I was a horse, and says he, "There's one thing more. You need a setting-up." "Not for me, Jim," says I "I keep regular hours, though I don't mind swapping yarns with you till I get sleepy to-night!" Then he let off another big laugh, and says he, "That isn't what I mean. It's something we do in the regulars, and ought to have done in the volunteers." So he made me stand up, and lift my shoulders, and hold my head high, and breathe full, at the same time making me look at myself in the glass. "There!" says he, after a spell, "you do that a few times a day, till it comes natural to you, and you'll feel better for it, all your life." "'Well, Philip, I don't mind owning up to you that I was so stuck up for the next few hours that at night I thought it necessary to put up a special prayer against sinful vanity. Next morning I went down to your wife's old store to ask Miss Truett something, and she didn't know me. No, sir, she didn't, till I spoke to her. She didn't say anything about it, but she looked like your wife sometimes does when she's mighty pleased about something, and I needn't tell you that looks like them are mighty pleasant to take. "'Well, I suppose all this sounds like fool-talk, for of course I can't get my birthdays back, but, coming at a time when the malaria appears to be loosening its grip, this looking like I used to before I got broke up is doing me a mighty sight of good. "'When is that corn-meal coming? "'Yours always, "'CALEB WRIGHT.'"