128 HAPPY HOLLOW FARM 



friendly visit. So long as we knew him he 

 wore only one suit of clothes. It must have 

 been a cast-off when he moved into it; for to 

 say that it bagged about his lean frame is to 

 make a poverty-stricken use of words. There 

 was extra room enough in his breeches for a 

 couple of his children. In the course of the 

 years that suit of his had become a fearful and 

 wonderful thing in its tailoring patches upon 

 patches ; a great, rough square of gunny-sack- 

 ing set upon the original cloth, and a triangle 

 of faded blue denim on the bagging, and a 

 ragged oval of old plaid shawl on the denim. 

 Joseph's coat wasn't in it with Jake's pants. 

 Every patch in the lot flapped picturesquely 

 loose at one side or the other. The state of 

 those flaps betrayed his state of mind beyond 

 mistaking. If he came for work, their edges 

 would flutter free; but when he dressed for 

 Sunday or in his favorite role of gentleman of 

 leisure the flaps would be tucked in carefully. 

 That sign never failed. Just so surely as we 

 saw him come into the offing looking like a 

 yacht with all its bunting flying, we knew the 

 formula for what was coming: 



"Ha-owd'y! You-uns all up?" Which was 

 a kindly inquiry as to the state of our health. 



