"I am going to feed them now.

Would you like to see it, m'sieu ?" Father Roland answered for him.
"Give us ten minutes and we shall be ready," he said, seizing David by the arm, and speaking to Thoreau.

"Come with me, David.

I have something waiting for you." They went into the Little Missioner's room, and pointing to his tumbled bed, Father Roland said: "Now, David, strip!" David had noticed with some concern the garments worn that morning by Father Roland and the Frenchman--their thick woollen shirts, their strange-looking, heavy trousers that were met just below the knees by the tops of bulky German socks, turned over as he had worn his more fashionable hosiery in the college days when golf suits, bulldog pipes, and white terriers were the rage.

He had stared furtively at Thoreau's great feet in their moose-hide moccasins, thinking of his own vici kids, the heaviest footwear he had brought with him.