It was a habit, an aristocratic touch, which, like his side-whiskers, detached him from the rest of Kilo.

He had once worn a silk hat, but he soon abandoned it for gray felt; for even he saw that a silk hat emphasized his individuality too strongly for comfort.

It was a tempting mark for snowballs in winter.
When the doctor had closed the door and stepped from the front porch, his wife sank into a chair.
"I do hope you won't git mad at what I'm goin' to say, Mister Hewlitt," she said, "'cause I ain't goin' to say it for no such thing; but I couldn't help hearin' what you was sayin' to Doc while I was reddin' off the table.

I wisht you wouldn't let him git to talkin' about new-fangled religions and sich.

It ain't for his good nor mine." Eliph' nodded good-naturedly.
"Why, ma'm," he exclaimed, "we were only discussing faith cures, and neither of us believes in them--wholly, that is.