"Then he wore a large cap, and a coat without nap,
And a beard as long as a Jew, so
That, by all that's civil, he looked like a devil
More than poor Robinson Crusoe."
"Which shows," continued Abraham, with his accustomed smile of good humor, "the extraordinary shifts to which a man may be reduced by necessity, and the uncouth appearance he must present in a perfectly unshaved state, when even the poet admits that he looked like a devil. These articles of clothing, which contributed to give him such a wild aspect, were made of goatskins, as he himself informs us in his wonderful narrative; and I beg you to remember, gentlemen, that the very skins upon which we are this moment sitting are related, by direct descent, to those which were worn by Robinson Crusoe."
Here the Doubter groaned.
"Well, sir, is there any thing improbable in that?" said Abraham, fiercely. "Have you any objection to that remark, sir?"
"No; I have nothing to say against it in particular, except that I'd believe it sooner if there were goats in the skins. I never heard of modern goatskins descending from ancient goatskins before."
"Of course, sir," said Abraham, coloring, "the goats were in the skins before they were taken out."
"Likely they were," growled the Doubter; "I won't dispute that. But I'd like to know, as a matter of information, if he, Robinson Crusoe, made his clothes in the same way as he made his house?"