"Yes, and Songbird would want to go along, too, if we were bound for
the Sanderson cottage," put in Tom. "You see, in Songbird's eyes,
Minnie Sanderson is just the nicest girl----"

"Now stop it, Tom, can't you!" pleaded poor Songbird, growing
decidedly red in the face. "Miss Sanderson is only a friend of mine,
and you know it."

Just at that moment the students at the table were interrupted by the
approach of a tall, dudish-looking individual, who wore a
reddish-brown suit, cut in the most up-to-date fashion, and who
sported patent-leather shoes, and a white carnation in his buttonhole.
The newcomer took a vacant chair, sitting down with a flourish.

"I've had a most delightful ramble, don't you know," he lisped,
looking around at the others. "I have been through the sylvan woods
and by the babbling brook, and have----"

"Great Caesar's tombstone!" exclaimed Tom, looking at the newcomer
critically. "Why, my dearly beloved William Philander, you don't mean
to say that you have been delving through the shadowy nooks, and
playing with the babbling brook, in that outfit?"

"Oh, dear, no, Tom!" responded William Philander Tubbs. "I had another
suit on, the one with the green stripe, don't you know,-- the one I
had made last September-- or maybe it was in October, I can't really
remember. But you must know the suit, don't you?"

"Sure! I remember the suit. The green-striped one with the faded-out