With a sudden
descent from his ethereal mood he pounced upon her and, in spite of
violent protestations, danced her madly down the walk and deposited
her breathless upon the milk-bench.
"He's getting worse all the time," she complained to Aunt Melvy, who
had watched the performance with great glee.
"Yas,'m," said Aunt Melvy, with a fond look at his retreating figure.
"He's jus' like a' Irish potato: when he ain't powerful cold, he's
powerful hot."
CHAPTER XII
ANTICIPATION
The day before the fair Sandy employed a substitute at the
post-office, in order to give the entire day to preparation for the
festivities to come.
Early in the morning he went to town, where, after much consultation
and many changes of mind, he purchased a suit of clothes. Then he
rented the town dress-suit, to the chagrin of three other boys who had
each counted upon it for the coming hop.
With the precious burden under his arm, Sandy hastened home. He spread
the two coats on the bed, placing a white shirt inside each, and a
necktie about each collar. Then he stood back and admired.
"It's meself I can see in them both this minute!" he exclaimed with
delight.
His shoes were polished until they were resplendent, but they lost
much of their glory during subsequent practising of steps before the
mirror.
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