Atherton, and Mrs. St. Claire, and
Mrs. Tracy, and had her butler, too, and her maid, and her carriage; and
after the house was furnished, and furnished in style which reminded one
of a theatre, it was so gorgeous and gay, Peterkin concluded to have a
_coat of arms_ for his carriage; and remembering how Arthur had helped
him in a former dilemma he sought him again and told him his trouble.
'That _Lubber-too_ (he called it _too_ now) 'went down like hot cakes,
and was just the thing,' he said, 'and now I want some picter for my
carriage door to kinder mark me, and show who I am. You know what I
mean.'
Arthur thought a _puff-ball_ would represent Peterkin better than
anything else, but he replied:
'Yes, I know. You want a coat of arms, which shall suggest your early
days--'
'When I was a flounderin' to get up--jess so,' Peterkin interrupted him.
'You've hit it, square. Now I'd like a picter of the Lizy Ann, as she
was, but May Jane won't hear to't. What do you say, square?'
Arthur tingled to his finger tips at this familiarity from a man whom he
detested, and whom he would like to turn from his door, but the man was
in his house and in his private room, tilting back in a delicate Swiss
chair, which Arthur expected every moment to see broken to pieces, and
which finally did go down with a crash as the burly figure settled
itself a little more firmly upon the frail thing.
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