One Of These Was A Young Man Wearing A Nice Light-Colored Sack Coat, With A Shiny White Collar Sticking Above It, And His Black Derby Hat Was On The Desk Beside Him. When He Had Finished His Letter He Put A Stamp On It And Got Up To Mail It.

I happened to be looking at him, and I believe I stopped breathing as I sat and stared.

Under his coat he had on a little skirt of green plaid about big enough for my Corinne when she was about five years old, and then he didn't wear anything whatever until you got down to his long stockings and low shoes. I was so struck with the feeling that he was an absent-minded person that I punched Jone and whispered to him to go quick and tell him. Jone looked at him and laughed, and said that was the Highland costume.

Now if that man had had his martial plaid wrapped around him, and had worn a Scottish cap with a feather in it and a long ribbon hanging down his back, with his claymore girded to his side, I wouldn't have been surprised; for this is Scotland, and that would have been like the pictures I have seen of Highlanders. But to see a man with the upper half of him dressed like a clerk in a dry goods store and the lower half like a Highland chief, was enough to make a stranger gasp.

[Illustration: "Jone looked at him and said that was the Highland costume."]

But since then I have seen a good many young men dressed that way.

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