"And no girl there will have a handsomer gallant than
mine, than my Knight of the Oracle, my--"
The boy teased but smiling ran away to do her bidding, as he always did.
He had no clothes besides the worn suit of homespun which he was then
wearing, except one other of buckskin, gayly fringed on the sleeves and
on the outer seam of the breeches. This had been his pride till of late.
But he now took it down from its peg behind his cabin door and eyed it
with new dissatisfaction. Fashions were changing in the wilderness.
Gentlemen no longer clothed themselves in the skins of wild beasts, nor
even in the coarse homespun. Not many, to be sure, were dressed like
Philip Alston; but David had lately seen Mr. Audubon hunting in velvet
knee-breeches and white silk stockings, with fine ruffles over his
hands. That gentleman had laughed at himself for doing it, but the sight
had pleased the boy's taste and gratified his craving for everything
refined and beautiful. It humiliated him to have no choice between the
shabby homespun and the fantastic buckskin. But he tried to find comfort
in thinking that he would have a boughten suit before very long.
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