The tailor is a cute little man, about as fat as a lead pencil, and not much to look at, but he has a good heart and would make a fine step-father for the redoubtable Montmorency who is learning to talk quite well.
Beside that, he has true views of life. One evening when I was passing by Jane’s cottage, I heard him say to her, “You ain’t on the right track.”
I stopped to listen, for I am interested in Jane.
“Yes I be,” she said. “I want my boy to be a good dresser.”
“It ain’t the outside alone that counts, Jane,” said the tailor. “It’s the inside, too.”
“And you a tailor,” she said contemptuously.
The little tailor was pretty decided, and he went on, “You can make Montmorency a gentleman as well as Mr. Granton can.”
“Now, tell me how,” she said anxiously.
“Learn him to be meek,” said the tailor, “learn him to act like a man, learn him to be bossed so he can boss—to treat very merciful any poor folk and dumb critters that are under him, to be clean inside and out, to get a first-class education, and to wear a tidy suit of clothes.”
Jane didn’t say anything for a long time, then she remarked, “That’s like a pictur of Mr. Granton. If my boy could be like him, I’d be suited.”