"A hat," said she, "is something to cover one's head from the rain, and a frock is something to guard one's limbs from inclement weather.—To that extent I am interested in these things: but they would put a hat on my mind, and a black cloth on my understanding."
We sat in silence for a little time, while she surveyed the bleak horizon as an eagle might.
"And when I call at their houses," said she, "their servants say 'Not at home,' a lie, you know, and they close their doors on me."
She was silent again—
"I do not know what to do," said she.
"Is that," said I, "the reason why you beat your lap with your hand, and stare abroad like a famished eagle?"
She turned quickly to me—
"What shall I do to open those doors?" said she.
"If I happened to be you," I replied, "I would cut off my hair, I'd buy a man's clothes and wear them always, I'd call myself Harry or Tom; and then I'd go wherever I pleased, and meet whoever I wanted to meet?"
She stared fixedly at herself in these garments, and under these denominations—