Dab Kinzer A Story of a Growing Boy

" lay the Kinzer farm. Beyond the bay was a sandbar, and beyond that th

any bright and growing village crowding up on one side of it, with a railway-station and a post-office. Nor was there, at that time, any great and busy city of New York, only a few hours' ride away, over on the island of Manhattan. The Kinzers them

milar description. It was, therefore, every way correct and becoming for Dabney Kinzer's widowed mother and his sisters to be the plump and hearty beings th

as "such a growing boy;" but, for all that, he caught himself wondering, now and then,

all round; but it's too big for its fences, just as I'm too big for my clothes. Ham's house is three times as large as ours, but it looks as if it had grown too

, and was frequently taken by strangers for a good two years older than he was. It was sometime

but they did not seem to hinder his growth

their mother, the pleasant and tidy little Kinzer homestead, with its snug parlor and its cosey bits of rooms and c

ng at such a rate, there was no telling what they would all come to. But Mrs. Kinzer

plit up the slice of land between the iron track and the village into "town lots," and had sold

d visibly in plumpness that y

ver the north fence, had not escaped such a pair of eyes as those of the widow;

ry him to her daughter Miranda; but all was soon settled. Dab, of course, had nothing to do with the wedding arrangements, and Ham's share was somewhat contracted. Not but what he was at the Kinzer house a

ocked it so full of furniture. Right down nice furniture it is too; but there's

d Mrs. Kinzer. "There'll be room enough

ut Dab?"

id Dab's mother. "Seems as if he we

goods! Of course you can't. He'll have to be measur

!" emphatically re

d Ham; "and Dab's a growing boy. Where is he now? I'm goi

r a fast friend of his for life, and that was something. There was also something new and wonderful to Dabney himself, in walking into a tailor's shop, picking out cloth to please himsel

s suit is to be a pres

a's ac

nt: but it seemed all right, he thou

u some day. Tell you what I'll do, then: I'll have another suit made right

"Do it! You've your mo

ng to do wi

uted Dab. "Oh, but don

ay vit? I dell you zay vit you

what the fit would be, but it made hi

d always been a mystery and a trial to him. If his memory contained one record darker than another, it was the endless history of his misadventures with boots a

d Ham; and Miranda smiled more sweetly than ever before upon the latter, after she had hear

r weather; for neither kith, kin, nor acquaintances had been slighted

o the majority, with Dabney in his new clothes to keep them countenance, stood out in the cool shade of the grand old trees during the ceremony, which was performed

aintances hardly seemed to know him. He had had almost the same

a perpetual show of his stockings. His neck, too, seemed to be holding his head as far as

he truth, to be covered up in a prodigal waste of new cloth. Would he ever, ever, grow too big for suc

young lady, whom he had known since be

an you tell me if Mr.

sharply responded D

enny. "Is that you? I declare, you ha

hen," said Dab. "Then my

that the wedding had no chance at all except to go off well. Ham Morris w

fore the wedding. "We'll go over there, as soon as you and Miranda

d place in hand. I've only tried to live in a corner of it.

er side of the north fence, but he had doubts as to the propriety of it; an