Oliver, as his custom was, had attired himself sprucely for a visit to acquaintances, and a silk hat of the very newest fashion lay together with his gloves upon the table.
'What is this thing ?' inquired Godwin, with ominous calm, as he pointed to the piece of head-gear.
'A hat, I suppose,' replied his brother.
'You mean to say you are going to wear that in the street ?' 'And why not ?' Oliver, not venturing to raise his eyes, stared at the table-cloth indignantly.
'Can't you feel,' burst from the other, 'that it's a disgrace to buy and wear such a thing ?' 'Disgrace! what's the matter with the hat?
It's the fashionable shape.' Godwin mastered his wrath, and turned contemptuously away.

But Oliver had been touched in a sensitive place; he was eager to defend himself.
'I can't see what you're finding fault with,' he exclaimed.

'Everybody wears this shape.' 'And isn't that quite sufficient reason why anyone who respects himself should choose something as different as possible?
Everybody! That is to say, all the fools in the kingdom.

It's bad enough to follow when you can't help it, but to imitate asses gratuitously is the lowest depth of degradation.

Don't you know that that is the meaning of vulgarity?
How you can offer such an excuse passes my comprehension.