Day. "Won't you give me the address of your tailor?"
"Nat can't do that," added Ben. "He wants the artist all to himself."
"Which puts me in mind of a story," broke in Shadow Hamilton. "A countryman went into a clothing store to buy a suit and"
"Wow!" came from several of the students in a chorus.
"That story is a hundred and fifty years old."
"It's full of moth-holes. Shadow."
"It isn't—I've only told it about"
"Two hundred and eleven times," finished Dave. "Shadow, you really must get a new joke-book to read."
"Never mind my clothing," grumbled Nat Poole. "I couldn't help it that I fell in the cistern. The farmer had no right to cover it with rotten boards."
"Yeou had no right to be in the barn," answered Shadrach Mellick, with a grin. "Howsomever, we'll let it pass. I'm satisfied ef yeou air."
The sleigh was soon ready, and the students bundled in, making themselves as comfortable as possible. Nat Poole's wet clothing was placed in a sack and tied on behind. Then the farmer mounted to the front seat.
"All ready?" he queried.
