“I was only goin’ to say that if Phil does make that trip to York I don’t see that he’ll need to buy new clothes. He’s never wore that Sunday coat on other days, except to two or three funerals an’ parties. I was goin’ it over this very mornin’, an’ it’s about as good as new.” “I wonder how this family would ever have got along if I hadn’t got such a caretakin’ wife?” said the old man. “It’s the best coat in the United States, if _you’ve_ been goin’ it over.” Phil was already in the corn,--he had left the table some minutes before his father,--and as the old man approached, Phil said,-- “Father, don’t you think that wind-break for the sheep needs patching this fall?” “It generally does, my son, before cold weather sets in.” “I guess I’ll get at it, then, as soon as we get the corn stacked.” “What’s the hurry? The middle of November is early enough for that.” “Oh, when it’s done it’ll be off our minds.” “See here, old boy,” said the father, dropping the old ship’s cutlass with which he had begun to cut the corn-stalks, “you’re doin’ all your work a month ahead this fall. What are you goin’ to do with all your time when there’s no more work to be done?” “I can’t say, I’m sure,” said Phil, piling an armful of stalks against a stack with more than ordinary care. “Can’t, eh? Then I’ll have to, I s’pose, seein’ I’m your father. I guess I’ll have to send you down to New York for a month, to look aroun’ an’ see somethin’ of the world.” Phil turned so quickly that he ruined all his elaborate work of the moment before, almost burying his father under the toppling stack. “That went to the spot, didn’t it?” said the old man. “I mean the proposition,--not the fodder,” he continued, as he extricated himself from the mass of corn-stalks. “It’s exactly what I’ve been wanting to do,” said Phil, “but----” “But you didn’t like to say so, eh? Well, ’twasn’t necessary to mention it; as I told you t’other day, I can see through the back of your head any time, old boy.” “‘Twouldn’t cost much money,” said Phil. “I could go down on Sol Mantring’s sloop for nothing, some time when he’s short-handed.” “Guess I can afford to pay my oldest son’s travellin’ expenses when I send him out to see the world. You’ll go down to York by railroad, an’ in the best car, too, if there’s any difference.” “I won’t have to buy clothes, anyhow,” said the younger man. “Yes, you will,--lots of ’em. York ain’t Haynton, old boy; an’ as the Yorkers don’t know enough to take their style from you, you’ll have to take yours from them. I was there once, when I was ’long about your age: I didn’t have to buy no more meetin’-clothes after that until I got married,--nigh on to ten years.” “If it’s as expensive as that, I’m not going,” said Phil, looking very solemn and beginning to reconstruct the demolished stack.