His smoothly shaven face, framed in
crinkly, gray locks, was surmounted by a soft, little, round hat, from
the up-turned brim of which dangled a broken string. His long frock-coat
reached to just above his loosely fitting gaiters.
The fluttering string, whose only reason for being at all was to keep
the queer head-gear from sailing away on the wind, gave a touch of the
ludicrous to the boyish hat which, in its turn, lent more drollery than
dignity to the sanctified face of the old theologian. Who has not seen
just such, or a similar sight, and laughed? Who has not, with the
generosity common to us all, concluded these were the mistakes and
self-delusions of neighbors, relatives, and friends, in which we had no
share?
I understand how it is with you. I am one of you. Before I studied our
common errors I smiled at my neighbor's lack of taste, reconstructed my
friends, and cast contemptuous criticism upon my enemies. One day I took
a look at myself, and realized that "I, too, am laughable on unsuspected
occasions."
The humbling knowledge of seeing myself objectively, gave me courage to
speak to the heart of you certain home truths which concern us all, in
homely language which we can all understand.
That you may discern the comicality and waggery in ill-chosen clothes, I
have endeavored to hint to you in these talks some of the ways gew-gaws
and garments make game of us.
May you discover that your dress is not making you a laughable object;
but if, by any chance, you should note that your clothes are
caricaturing you, take heart.
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