“Young folks don’t think about that.”
Well, we compromised on half past seven (most bed-time). And when Faith knocked at our door at that epoch of time we wuz all ready. Josiah had carefully combed his few locks of gray hair upwards over his bald head, had donned a sweet smilin’ look, and a cravat, gayer fur than I approved of (he’d bought it durin’ the day onbeknown to me). And I had arrayed my noble figger in my usual cotton and wool brown dress, brightened up at the neck and sleeves with snowy collar and cuffs, and further enriched by the large cameo pin. I also carried a turkey feather fan that harmonized in color with my dress. I looked exceedingly well and felt well.
And Faith, I sez proudly to myself, a sweeter face and prettier dress won’t be seen there to-night. She did look lovely. Her soft eyes shone, her cheeks looked pinky, her hair, a sort of a golden brown with some gray in it, crinkled back from her white forward and wuz gathered in a loose knot on the top of her head with a high silver comb. Her dress wuz thin and white and gauzy, and though it wuz considerable 121 plain it wuz made beautiful by the big bunch of pale pink roses at her belt and bosom, jest matchin’ her cheeks in color.
I wuz proud of her. And I felt quite well about my other companion, for as I glanced at the small kerseymear figger and pert bald head, I sez to myself, “He makes a much better escort than none at all.”