"Oh, you savage! You'd better say it's cooler to go without anything at all."
"So it is—in the shade," replied Phra.
"Well, I am!" cried Harry. "After all the trouble father, Dr. Cameron, and your most humble and obedient servant have taken to make a civilized being of you, to talk like that!"
"Civilized being! pooh! I should have been a civilized being without your help."
"Not you. To begin with, you wouldn't have worn trousers, and wearing trousers means everything. A man who wears trousers stands at the very top of civilization. A man who doesn't wear them is a savage."
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Phra. "I should like Mr. Cameron to hear you say that he was a savage."
"Who ever would say so? Mr. Cameron is—is—well, he's a tip-topper in everything."
"But he doesn't wear trousers when he goes with us shooting. He always wears his war petticoat then."
"Wears his what?" cried Harry wonderingly.
"That grey fighting petticoat. His kill it."