Though this was severe on the nervous organism of the peacock, it seemed to afford unlimited satisfaction to Cæsar, and it kept him out of so much other possible mischief, that he was rarely interfered with on these occasions. [Illustration: JACK EXHIBITS HIS "OUTFIT."] As soon as Jack could have his luggage taken to the house and put in the room the boys were to occupy, he hastened to unpack his outfit before the wondering eyes of Clifford. A handsome double-barreled shot-gun, Clifford suggested, might be used in trying to kill his aunt's three remaining chickens; a delicate split-bamboo fishing-rod might come in well for catching live bait, if they were not in a hurry; and an extensive collection of artificial flies would perhaps serve to frighten away the mosquitoes. A large horse-pistol Cliff thought would be "just the thing for picking off bull-frogs in the marshes"; but he was forced to tell his cousin that he feared his shooting-coat, his fine yachting suit, his knickerbockers for mountain climbing, and his tennis flannels, would scarcely be needed in that vicinity. Poor Jack looked ruefully at his expensive "outfit," which Clifford seemed to prize so little, and then he asked his cousin to tell him what specialties of costume and accouterments were best fitted to the Shrewsbury region. Without answering in words, Clifford simply pointed to a closet, through the open door of which could be seen, hanging from hooks, a broad-brimmed straw hat, a blue flannel shirt, a stout pair of trousers, and a lanyard. A large jack-knife lay upon the shelf, and a substantial pair of high shoes stood firmly on the floor. Little more was said concerning the subject that evening, but Jack went to bed in a very sober frame of mind. In the morning, he put all his fancy toggery back into his trunk, selecting only such useful garments as Clifford suggested, and took an early opportunity of purchasing a hat which was an exact counterpart of the one worn by his cousin. Indeed, it was dangerous to mention the word "outfit" in Jack's hearing for a long time. Clifford's aunt, Miss Goodmaid, was asked to tell them where they could hire a sail-boat for their proposed trip; she had heard that Johnny Peltsman, the carriage-maker's son, in Mud Flat, had such a boat, and to him the boys went to "negotiate." Johnny Peltsman _did_ have a boat, which he said he would let, if he "could get his price." The Slug, he admitted, looked a trifle heavy, and, while under "proper conditions" she would go fast, Johnny confessed that she couldn't sail very close to the wind. Upon payment of five dollars, he said, the boys might have the boat for two weeks. "Done!" cried Jack, eagerly. "I dare say she will suit us perfectly. Some people may like boats that sail close to the wind. But a boat to suit me must be able to slide away from the wind, and not stay crawling around close to it!"