Mud
lay soft and deep in the streets and among the little pools of water on
the sidewalks were dry spots from which steam arose. Nature had forgotten
herself. A day that should have sent old fellows to their nests behind
stoves in stores sent them forth to loaf in the sun. The night fell warm
and cloudy. A thunder storm threatened in the month of February.
Sam walked along the sidewalk with his mother bound for the brick church,
wearing a new grey overcoat. The night did not demand the overcoat but Sam
wore it out of an excess of pride in its possession. The overcoat had an
air. It had been made by Gunther the tailor after a design sketched on the
back of a piece of wrapping paper by John Telfer and had been paid for out
of the newsboy's savings. The little German tailor, after a talk with
Valmore and Telfer, had made it at a marvellously low price. Sam swaggered
as he walked.
He did not sleep in church that evening; indeed he found the quiet church
filled with a medley of strange noises. Folding carefully the new coat and
laying it beside him on the seat he looked with interest at the people,
feeling within him something of the nervous excitement with which the air
was charged.
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