a hill; on either bank grew huge cottonwoods, from which occasionally
depended a beautiful scarlet vine.

"Ah! eet ees pretty," said the lady, nodding her black-veiled head
towards it. "Eet is good in ze hair."

One of the men made an awkward attempt to clutch a spray from the
window. A brilliant inspiration flashed upon Clarence. When the stage
began the ascent of the next hill, following the example of an outside
passenger, he jumped down to walk. At the top of the hill he rejoined
the stage, flushed and panting, but carrying a small branch of the vine
in his scratched hands. Handing it to the man on the middle seat, he
said, with grave, boyish politeness--"Please--for the lady."

A slight smile passed over the face of Clarence's neighbors. The
bonnetless woman nodded a pleasant acknowledgment, and coquettishly
wound the vine in her glossy hair. The dark man at his side, who hadn't
spoken yet, turned to Clarence dryly.

"If you're goin' to keep up this gait, sonny, I reckon ye won't find
much trouble gettin' a man's suit to fit you by the time you reach
Sacramento."

Clarence didn't quite understand him, but noticed that a singular
gravity seemed to overtake the two jocular men on the middle seat, and
the lady looked out of the window. He came to the conclusion that he had
made a mistake about alluding to his clothes and his size. He must try
and behave more manly. That opportunity seemed to be offered two hours
later, when the stage stopped at a wayside hotel or restaurant.