Skinner's Dress Suit

by Henry Irving Dodge

"But he might get after them."

"He does n't want to change. He has no ambition, no initiative. Take it from me, Mac, any man that wears such clothes has resigned himself to permanent, innocuous, uninteresting mediocrity."

"But—" McLaughlin protested.

Perkins cut him short. "Any man that wears clothes like a doormat will let you make a doormat of him!"

"That's just what puzzles me. A good-looking man—fine eyes and a figure. The only thing that stands between him and one of your Harvard dudes is a first-class tailor. Perk, why does he dress like that?"

"He began by skimping for that little house out in Meadeville. Then he got used to going without good clothes and he did n't care."

"It's notorious," McLaughlin commented.

"Nobody cares much whether a cashier in his cage is well dressed," said Perkins. "You can't see him below the waist-line. He might not have on either trousers or shoes for all the public knows or cares."

"What kind of a wife has he got?"

"She's just as thrifty as he is. They've got the poverty bug, I guess. Don't worry about Skinner, Mac. The fear of the poorhouse has kept many a good man in his place."