"I am leaving them here for any one who chooses to take them. Do you
want first pick, Jolson?"

"Not me! I ain't taking charity hand-me-downs from any man, Judge. If
it's a polite question, why are you giving away your duds this way?"

"I think you have just answered that question, Jolson. I offered you
these clothes. Your nose went into the air. Other men have acted in the
same way in the past when I have offered to give a fellow a good suit.
I don't want to hurt other folks' feelings. I don't want to have my own
feelings hurt. So, let any man help himself when no one is looking."

"I'll take the alarm-clock, if you say so," volunteered Jolson. "It'll
help to rout me out of bed at milking-time."

"No, you cannot have the clock, Jolson. I have tinkered it so that
it will purr a little every half-hour. It will call attention to the
clothes. You see, a good many men rush through life without looking to
right or left, and so they miss a lot of opportunities."

Jolson clucked to his horse and rattled away down the road, muttering
sour remarks.

The old gentleman, with the air of a man who has satisfied his
philanthropic ambitions, climbed into his chaise and followed the
farmer.

The brisk breeze flirted the tails of the frock-coat and the trousers
legs tried out a modest little gig as if some of the jocose spirit of
the old gentleman had remained with the garments he had discarded.