Whatever it was seemed to have centered the attack
on the waist band of the pants. Then too, some "low comedian"
here at the house said the lapels looked like those of an "end
man" in a Russellville home talent minstrel, and another said the
tails were too short and seemed blunt and worn off, like an old
feather duster. Now that couldn't be, because practically the
last time I wore it was at my own wedding. I had put a telegram
in an inside pocket--and there it was: "Veedersburg, Indiana,
November 24, 1910. Sorry we can't be there but we're with you to
a man. Congratulations. Fred S. Purnell." Well, we wound up in a
one-sided compromise--a new dress suit from Bro. McMurray, 201
Board of Trade Bldg., Indpls, Ind.
Along came Joan wanting a 4 p.m. St. Bartholomew's wedding. That
called for a "cut-away." So again I went to interview Bro.
McMurray. He was delighted and thoroughly in favor. When I went
up for a try-on, while Bro. McMurray was chalk-marking here and
there, I took a hurried look in the glass, and Holy Nellie! What
I saw took me back instantly to "Old Prince" at Russellville. Old
Prince is a 26-year-old faded-out black work horse I own,
spavined, two splints and stiff as Mrs.
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