"Yes, he did. He said you'd let me have 'em half price."
"So I will, my—boy. This is the cheapest place in the city."
"Well, old man, trot out your best suits. I want 'em in the style, you know."
"I know that from your looks," said the old man, a grin illumining his wrinkled face, as he glanced at the rags Sam wore.
"Oh, you needn't look at these. My best clo'es is to home in the wardrobe. What have you got for shirts?"
A red-flannel article was displayed; but Sam didn't like the color.
"It ain't fashionable," he said.
"Here's a blue one," said the old man.
"That's more like, how much is it?"
"Fifty cents."