“At my age,” William continued, swallowing, and fixing his earnest eyes upon the roof of the porch to avoid the disconcerting stare of his father, “at my age there’s some things that ought to be done and some things that ought not to be done. If you asked me what I thought _ought_ to be done, there is only one answer: When anybody as old as I am has to go out among other young men his own age that already got one, like anyway half of them _have_, who I go with, and their fathers have already taken such a step, because they felt it was the only right thing to do, because at my age and the young men I go with’s age it _is_ the only right thing to do because that is something nobody could deny, at my age--” Here William drew a long breath, and, deciding to abandon that sentence as irrevocably tangled, began another: “I have thought over this step, because there comes a time to every young man when they must lay a step before their father before something happens that they would be sorry for. I have thought this undertaking over, and I am certain it would be your honest duty--” “My soul!” gasped Mr. Baxter. “I thought I knew you pretty well, but you talk like a stranger to me! What _is_ all this? What you _want_?” “A dress-suit!” said William. He had intended to say a great deal more before coming to the point, but though through nervousness he had lost some threads of his rehearsed plea, it seemed to him he was getting along well, and putting his case with some distinction and power. He was surprised and hurt, therefore, to hear his father utter a wordless shout in a tone of wondering derision. “I have more to say--” William began. But, disregarding this, Mr. Baxter cut him off. “A dress-suit!” he cried. “Well, I’m glad you were talking about _something_, because I honestly thought it must be too much sun!” At this, the troubled William brought his eyes down from the porch roof and forgot his rehearsal. He lifted his hand appealingly. “Father,” he said, “I _got_ to have one!” “Got to!” Mr. Baxter laughed a laugh that chilled the supplicant through and through. “At your age I thought I was lucky if I had _any_ suit that was fit to be seen in. You’re too young, Willie. I don’t want you to get your mind on such stuff, and if I have my way, you won’t have a dress-suit for four years more, anyhow.” “Father, I _got_ to have one. I got to have one right away!” The urgency in William’s voice was almost tearful. “I don’t ask you to have it made, or to go to expensive tailors, but there’s a plenty of good ready-made ones that only cost about forty dollars; they’re advertised in the paper. Father, wouldn’t you spent just forty dollars? I’ll pay it back when I’m in business. I’ll work--” Mr. Baxter waved all this aside. “It’s not the money. It’s the principle that I’m standing for, and I don’t intend--” “Father, _won’t_ you do it?” “No, I will not!” * * * * *