LITMIR.BIZ

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suit over his arm, and skipped off, followed by Ben. And they shot down the elevator and went back down all the aisles. There she sat, stiff and immovable, in her chair.

      "Oh, only one?" she asked, as the salesman held up the bargain.

      "I didn't know you wanted two," gasped Ben; "you didn't say so."

      "Oh, I suppose I did not mention it. But have you been all this time picking out a paltry one?" She didn't even offer to touch the suit, and scarcely glanced at it.

      "Do you like it?" asked Ben. "See, it's thick and warm, isn't it?" lifting the sleeve for her to see it the better.

      "Oh, I suppose it will serve its purpose, and be warm enough," she said carelessly. "Well, now," to the salesman, "will you go back and bring another one, a smaller size, and stay, still another, for there must be some more boys in the family? There ought to be. No, you don't need to go, Ben; he can pick them out. Just the same quality, mind," and she dismissed the little man.

      When he had disappeared, she cast an approving glance at the suit thrown across the counter. "Very well chosen," she said. "And now, see here, run down to the neckwear counter—or stay," and she raised her black glove.

      A small army of salesmen seemed to rush to the scene, so many appeared. "What is it, madam?" for all knew, at least by sight, the wealthy old lady, who, try as hard as she might, never seemed to be able to make much impression on the Van Ruypen money-bags. "Take this boy to the different departments that he selects, and let him buy what pleases him," she said to the first salesman that reached her.

      "Yes, madam," he said, well pleased, and leading off with Ben. But just then a floor-walker touched him on the shoulder, "Mr. Moses wants you," he said, "about those vests."

      "Oh, all right," said the salesman; "here, Perkins," and beckoning to a tall young man, who appeared to Ben very much dressed up, he turned the boy over to him, and went off.

      "Well, what do you want?" asked Mr. Perkins, leisurely surveying Ben's sturdy figure from his greater height.

      "A red woollen tippet, I think," said Ben.

      "A red woollen tippet!" repeated the salesman, nearly falling backward. "Oh, we haven't got one in the store!"

      "Haven't you?" asked Ben, very much disappointed, for he had set his heart on seeing that the boy who was to have those good warm clothes should have a red woollen tippet to tie around his throat, and perhaps go over his cap, and down around his ears, if it was very cold. Anyway, the ends were to tuck in the jacket. Ben knew just exactly how that tippet was to look when it was all fixed, ready for a sharp, cold, snowy day.

      "Well, I can suit you," said the salesman, noting the disappointed tone; "we've got silk scarfs, nice ones, all—"

      "Oh, I don't want a silk scarf," said Ben, quickly.

      "Some of them are plaid; you don't know how fine they are. This way," and he stepped off.

      But as Ben stood quite still, there was nothing for the salesman to do but to come back, which he did, quite discomfited.

      "Have you got any caps?" asked Ben, leaving the red tippet out of the question as an impossibility in this shop.

      "Caps? Oh, yes, this way," and away they went, down aisles, up in elevators, and into the department where nothing but headgear showed itself.

      This time, knowing there were to be three boys provided for with suits, Ben picked out the same number of good, strong caps, the salesman all through the process plainly showing his disgust and disappointment at what he thought was to be a fine purchase, turning out to be such a poor trade. But Ben knew nothing of what was going on in the other one's mind, and would have cared still less, had he known, all his attention being absorbed in the bargain he was making for Madam Van Ruypen. At last the business was concluded.

      "Do you keep gloves?" he asked, as they turned away.

      "Yes," said the salesman, sullenly, and slapping the three cloth caps together disdainfully.

      "Mittens?" asked Ben.

      "No, indeed," said Mr. Perkins, emphatically. "Mittens, the very idea!" then he winked at a young man, who looked as if a wrinkle, by any chance, never existed in his clothes, and whose hair was evidently just fresh from the barber's. "We don't keep anything but first-class goods."

      The other young man made no attempt to conceal his broad smile. And by this time Ben had considerable attention down the long store. He couldn't help but see it, and he held his head high, and his blue eyes flashed.

      "Well, give me the money—" Mr. Perkins held out his hand, the one with the big ring on.

      "I don't pay for them," said Ben.

      "Well, I guess you do, young man," declared Mr. Perkins, in a high key, designed to impress the onlookers. "You've bought these caps," and he gave them another disdainful slap together, "and you'll pay for them, and now, right sharp off!" he added in a very unpleasant way.

      "But I haven't bought them for myself," said Ben.

      "Hey? Oh! What are you talking about?" Mr. Perkins whirled around at him. "Who sent you here, anyway?" glaring down at him.

      "I haven't been sent," said Ben; "I came with the one who is going to buy them."

      "Well, who is he? Take me to him." Mr. Perkins craned his neck this way and that, trying to see the friend of his customer.

      "If you will follow me, you will see for yourself," said Ben, stepping off. When he paused by Madam Van Ruypen's chair, Mr. Perkins was in a bad state. His long limbs seemed wobbling under him, and his usually glib tongue appeared to be fastened to the roof of his mouth. He delivered up the caps with a limp and feeble hand, then cast an appealing eye down at Ben.

      "Very good," said the old lady, without a glance at them. "Put them with these other articles," pointing to the suit left on the counter. "Now, then, Ben, are these all the things you can find here, pray tell?"

      "Yes," said Ben, "they don't seem to keep what I want in this shop."

      "Let me look again," cried Mr. Perkins, in great distress, "I think maybe I can find something to suit you. Don't go yet, I almost know we can find something," he kept on in such misery, saying the same thing over and over, that Madam Van Ruypen stared at him in amazement.

      Meanwhile, the other young man, who had followed Ben and Mr. Perkins with his eye till they arrived at Madam Van Ruypen's chair, soon spread the astounding news that the boy who wanted mittens had good reason to hold his own against everybody, and was by no means a person to be safely laughed at. "And Perkins is having a fit," he wound up, to the group of salesmen unencumbered by customers.

      "I don't think you can," said Ben, quickly; "I must try some other shop."

      "But just come and let me show you some things," begged Mr. Perkins, in a frenzy.

      "Oh, go along, Ben," said Madam Van Ruypen; "you might as well, for I must wait here until the other man brings down those extra suits."

      So Ben had nothing to do but to move off with Mr. Perkins. When they had turned into a convenient corner, "See here," said the salesman, and his face paled, "you won't tell on me, will you?" His mouth twitched, and anxious wrinkles seemed to run all over his face, making him suddenly quite old and worn.

      "What do you think?" said Ben, indignantly, and he turned on his heel in contempt.

      "You see," Mr. Perkins hurried after him, and spoke as if his throat were parched, the words came out so jerkily, "I couldn't stay here a minute, you know, if the old man knew I'd treated any one belonging to her badly."

      "I don't belong to her," said Ben.

      "Well, you came with her," said Mr. Perkins, quite willing now to believe Ben much higher up yet, if that were possible, in the social scale. "And I've got a mother," he swallowed hard with a kind of choke, "and three sisters, and—"

      "You needn't be afraid," Ben stopped the rest; "I give you my word I'll not speak of it."

      "Honest

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