I have always laid it to the butternut trousers--the most sacred bit of apparel of which I have any knowledge.
"What have you got on them butternut trousers for ?" I used to hear Aunt Deel say when he came down-stairs in his first best clothes to go to meeting or "attend" a sociable--those days people just went to meeting but they always "attended" sociables--"You're a wearin' `em threadbare, ayes! I suppose you've sot yer eyes on some one o' the girls.

I can always tell--ayes I can! When you git your long legs in them butternut trousers I know you're warmin' up--ayes!" I had begun to regard those light brown trousers with a feeling of awe, and used to put my hand upon them very softly when uncle had them on.
They seemed to rank with "sofys," albums and what-nots in their capacity for making trouble.
Uncle Peabody rarely made any answer, and for a time thereafter Aunt Deel acted as if she were about done with him.

She would go around with a stern face as if unaware of his presence, and I had to keep out of her way.

In fact I dreaded the butternut trousers almost as much as she did.
Once Uncle Peabody had put on the butternut trousers, against the usual protest, to go to meeting.
"Ayes! you've got 'em on ag'in," said Aunt Deel.

"I suppose your black trousers ain't good 'nough.