"Then you will go?" says Cousin Dempster.
"Go!" says I, "yes, if I have to walk afoot with snow-shoes on."
"Well, then, get your yachting clothes ready," says he.
"Pink silk?" I suggested.
"Oh, no; something that can stand the water," says he.
"Say black alpaca, with a white hat and plumes—principle and patriotism before anything else," says I.
"That will be lovely on the blue waves," says Cousin E. E. "I will wear a blue feather, and Cecilia shall turn up her Leghorn flat with an anchor."
"That's just the thing," says Cousin D., with maritime enthusiasm. "I have had the yacht painted white, and on her long white pennant you will find a name all Vermonters love particularly, and the world generally."
"What is her name?" we all said right out at once.
"The Vermonter," says he, straightening himself up proudly.