"Yes, ma'am—thank you," Neale said politely.
In the kitchen Mrs. MacCall said, with a smile: "The pants all right, Neale?"
"Sure they are," he declared, as he went out. Then he thought: "Dear me! seems as though everybody has a lot of interest in my new clothes."
In the morning, early, when he put the suit on to display it to the old cobbler with whom Neale lived, the boy experienced a sudden and surprising interest in the trousers himself.
The Corner House girls were at breakfast when, with a great clatter, Neale rushed in at the back door, through the kitchen, and into the dining room. He had on his new jacket and vest, but around his waist was tied a voluminous kitchen apron that Mr. Con Murphy wore when he cooked, which covered Neale to his insteps.
"Dear me! what is the matter, Neale?" asked Ruth, with some vexation.
"Matter? Matter enough!" cried the white-haired boy, very red in the face. "Look what you did to my pants!"
He lifted the apron and displayed a wealth of blue yarn sock above his shoe-tops, and hose supporters as well.
"For the good Land o' Goshen!" ejaculated Aunt Sarah.
"I never—in all my life!" cried Mrs. MacCall.