At
such times Cousin Egbert strove to cheer me with all sorts of
assurances, and to divert my mind he took me upon excursions of the
roughest sort into the surrounding jungle, in search either of fish or
ground game. After three days of this my park-suit became almost a
total ruin, particularly as to the trousers, so that I was glad to
borrow a pair of overalls such as Cousin Egbert wore. They were a tidy
fit, but, having resolved not to resist America any longer, I donned
them without even removing the advertising placard.
With my ever-lengthening stubble of beard it will be understood that I
now appeared as one of their hearty Western Americans of the roughest
type, which was almost quite a little odd, considering my former
principles. Cousin Egbert, I need hardly say, was immensely pleased
with my changed appearance, and remarked that I was "sure a live
wire." He also heartened me in the matter of the possible disapproval
of C. Belknap-Jackson, which he had divined was the essential rabbit
in my moodiness.
"I admit the guy uses beautiful language," he conceded, "and probably
he's top-notched in education, but jest the same he ain't the whole
seven pillars of the house of wisdom, not by a long shot. If he gets
fancy with you, soak him again.
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