“James, I wish you had come in knee-breeches.” “Ma’am?” said he in great surprise. “In knee-breeches, James,” repeated I. -- “What be they, ma’am? what for, ma’am?” said he, a little frightened, as I thought. “Oh! nothing, nothing; but--but--” “Yes, ma’am,” said James. “But--but, I want to see--to see--” “What ma’am?” said James. “Your legs,” gasped I; and the path _was_ thorny enough, Carrie, I can tell you. I had a terrible time explaining to him what I meant, and all about the liveries, etc. Dear me! what a pity these things are not understood: and then we should never have this trouble about explanations. However, I couldn’t make him agree to wear the livery. He said: “I’ll try to be a good servant, ma’am, but I cannot put on those things and make a fool of myself. I hope you won’t insist, for I am very anxious to get a place.” Think of his dictating to me. I told him that I did not permit my servants to impose conditions upon me (that’s one of Mrs. Croesus’s sayings), that I was willing to pay him good wages and treat him well, but that my James must wear my livery. He looked very sorry, said that he should like the place very much,--that he was satisfied with the wages, and was sure that he should please me, but he could not put on those things. We were both determined, and so parted. I think we were both sorry; for I should have to go all through the calf-business again, and he lost a good place. However, Caroline dear, I have my livery and my footman, and am as good as anybody. It’s very splendid when I go to Stewart’s to have the red plush and the purple, and the white calves springing down to open the door, and to see people look, and say, “I wonder who that is?” And everybody bows so nicely, and the clerks are so polite, and Mrs. Gnu is melting with envy on the other side, and Mrs. Croesus goes about saying, “Dear little woman, that Mrs. Potiphar, but so weak! Pity, pity!” And Mrs. Settum Downe says, “Is that the Potiphar livery? Ah, yes, Mr. Potiphar’s grandfather used to shoe my grandfather’s horses!”--(as if to be useful in the world, were a disgrace,--as Mr. P. says) and young Downe, and Boosey, and Timon Croesus come up and stand about so gentlemanly, and say, “Well Mrs. Potiphar, are we to have no more charming parties this season?”--and Boosey says, in his droll way, “Let’s keep the ball a-rolling!” That young man is always ready with a witticism. Then I step out and James throws open the door, and the young men raise their hats, and the new crowd says, “I wonder who that is!” and the plush and purple, and calves spring up behind, and I drive home to dinner. Now, Carrie, dear, isn’t that nice?