not," said Dab; "but there's lots of room."
"Say dar was!" exclaimed Dick. "But wont dese t'ings be warm!"
It was quite likely, for the day was not a cool one, and Dick never seemed to think of pulling off what he had on before getting into his unexpected present. Coat, vest, and trousers, they were all pulled on with more quickness than Dab had ever seen the young African display before.
"I's much obleeged to ye, Mr. Kinzer," said Dick, very proudly, as he strutted across the road. "On'y I dasn't go back fru de village."
"What'll you do, then?" asked Dab.
"S'pose I'd better go a-fishin'," said Dick. "Will de fish bite?"
"Oh, the clothes wont make any odds to them," said Dabney. "I must go back to the house."
And so he did, while Dick, on whom the cast-off garments of his white friend were really a pretty good fit, marched on down the road, feeling grander than he ever had before in all his life.
"That'll be a good thing to tell Ham Morris when he and Miranda come home again," muttered Dab, as he re-entered the house.
Late that evening, when Dabney returned from [Page 556] his final duties as escort to his mother's guests, she rewarded him with more than he could remember ever receiving of motherly commendation.