A dressmaker's what we want.

I'll hunt up Effie to-morrow." And hunt her up he did, with the result that Miss Taylor came to the Whittaker place each day during the following week and Emily was, as the captain said, "rigged out fresh from main truck to keelson." In this "rigging" Captain Cy and his two partners--Josiah Dimick had already christened the pair "The Board of Strategy"-- took a marked interest.
They were on hand when each new garment was tried on, and they approved or criticised as seemed to them best.
"Ain't that kind of sober lookin' for a young one like Bos'n ?" asked the captain, referring to one of the new gowns.

"I don't want her to look as if she was dressed cheap." "Land sakes!" mumbled Miss Taylor, her mouth full of pins.

"There ain't anything cheap about it, and you'll find it out when you get the bill.
That's a nice, rich, sensible suit." "I know, but it's so everlastin' quiet! Don't you think a little yellow and black or some red strung along the yards would sort of liven it up?
Why! you ought to see them Greaser girls down in South America of a Sunday afternoon.

Color! and go! Jerushy! they'd pretty nigh knock your eye out." The dressmaker sniffed disdain.
"Cap'n Whittaker," she retorted, "if you want this child to look like an Indian squaw or a barber's pole you'll have to get somebody else to do it.