The Purple Dress

by O. Henry

　　

---

We are to consider the shade known as purple. It is a color justlyin repute among the sons and daughters of man. Emperors claim itfor their especial dye. Good fellows everywhere seek to bring theirnoses to the genial hue that follows the commingling of the red andblue. We say of princes that they are born to the purple; and nodoubt they are, for the colic tinges their faces with the royal tintequally with the snub-nosed countenance of a woodchopper's brat. Allwomen love it--when it is the fashion.And now purple is being worn. You notice it on the streets. Of courseother colors are quite stylish as well--in fact, I saw a lovely thingthe other day in olive green albatross, with a triple-lapped flounceskirt trimmed with insert squares of silk, and a draped fichu of laceopening over a shirred vest and double puff sleeves with a lace bandholding two gathered frills--but you see lots of purple too. Oh, yes,you do; just take a walk down Twenty-third street any afternoon.Therefore Maida--the girl with the big brown eyes and cinnamon-coloredhair in the Bee-Hive Store--said to Grace--the girl with therhinestone brooch and peppermint-pepsin flavor to her speech--"I'mgoing to have a purple dress--a tailor-made purple dress--forThanksgiving.""Oh, are you," said Grace, putting away some 71/2 gloves into the63/4 box. "Well, it's me for red. You see more red on Fifth avenue.And the men all seem to like it.""I like purple best," said Maida. "And old Schlegel has promised tomake it for $8. It's going to be lovely. I'm going to have a plaitedskirt and a blouse coat trimmed with a band of galloon under a whitecloth collar with two rows of--""Sly boots!" said Grace with an educated wink."--soutache braid over a surpliced white vest; and a plaited basqueand--""Sly boots--sly boots!" repeated Grace."--plaited gigot sleeves with a drawn velvet ribbon over an insidecuff. What do you mean by saying that?""You think Mr. Ramsay likes purple. I heard him say yesterday hethought some of the dark shades of red were stunning.""I don't care," said Maida. "I prefer purple, and them that don'tlike it can just take the other side of the street."Which suggests the thought that after all, the followers of purplemay be subject to slight delusions. Danger is near when a maidenthinks she can wear purple regardless of complexions and opinions;and when Emperors think their purple robes will wear forever.Maida had saved $18 after eight months of economy; and this hadbought the goods for the purple dress and paid Schlegel $4 on themaking of it. On the day before Thanksgiving she would have justenough to pay the remaining $4. And then for a holiday in a newdress--can earth offer anything more enchanting?Old Bachman, the proprietor of the Bee-Hive Store, always gave aThanksgiving dinner to his employees. On every one of the subsequent364 days, excusing Sundays, he would remind them of the joys of thepast banquet and the hopes of the coming ones, thus inciting themto increased enthusiasm in work. The dinner was given in the storeon one of the long tables in the middle of the room. They tackedwrapping paper over the front windows; and the turkeys and othergood things were brought in the back way from the restaurant on thecorner. You will perceive that the Bee-Hive was not a fashionabledepartment store, with escalators and pompadours. It was almostsmall enough to be called an emporium; and you could actually goin there and get waited on and walk out again. And always at theThanksgiving dinners Mr. Ramsay--Oh, bother! I should have mentioned Mr. Ramsay first of all. He ismore important than purple or green, or even the red cranberrysauce.Mr. Ramsay was the head clerk; and as far as I am concerned I am forhim. He never pinched the girls' arms when he passed them in darkcorners of the store; and when he told them stories when businesswas dull and the girls giggled and said: "Oh, pshaw!" it wasn't G.Bernard they meant at all. Besides being a gentleman, Mr. Ramsaywas queer and original in other ways. He was a health crank, andbelieved that people should never eat anything that was good forthem. He was violently opposed to anybody being comfortable, andcoming in out of snow storms, or wearing overshoes, or takingmedicine, or coddling themselves in any way. Every one of the tengirls in the store had little pork-chop-and-fried-onion dreams everynight of becoming Mrs. Ramsay. For, next year old Bachman was goingto take him in for a partner. And each one of them knew that if sheshould catch him she would knock those cranky health notions of hissky high before the wedding cake indigestion was over.Mr. Ramsay was master of ceremonies at the dinners. Always they hadtwo Italians in to play a violin and harp and had a little dance inthe store.And here were two dresses being conceived to charm Ramsay--onepurple and the other red. Of course, the other eight girls weregoing to have dresses too, but they didn't count. Very likelythey'd wear some shirt-waist-and-black-skirt-affairs--nothing asresplendent as purple or red.Grace had saved her money, too. She was going to buy her dressready-made. Oh, what's the use of bothering with a tailor--whenyou've got a figger it's easy to get a fit--the ready-made areintended for a perfect figger--except I have to have 'em all takenin at the waist--the average figger is so large waisted.The night before Thanksgiving came. Maida hurried home, keen andbright with the thoughts of the blessed morrow. Her thoughts were ofpurple, but they were white themselves--the joyous enthusiasm of theyoung for the pleasures that youth must have or wither. She knewpurple would become her, and--for the thousandth time she tried toassure herself that it was purple Mr. Ramsay said he liked and notred. She was going home first to get the $4 wrapped in a piece oftissue paper in the bottom drawer of her dresser, and then she wasgoing to pay Schlegel and take the dress home herself.Grace lived in the same house. She occupied the hall room aboveMaida's.At home Maida found clamor and confusion. The landlady's tongueclattering sourly in the halls like a churn dasher dabbing inbuttermilk. And then Grace come down to her room crying with eyes asred as any dress."She says I've got to get out," said Grace. "The old beast. BecauseI owe her $4. She's put my trunk in the hall and locked the door. Ican't go anywhere else. I haven't got a cent of money.""You had some yesterday," said Maida."I paid it on my dress," said Grace. "I thought she'd wait till nextweek for the rent."Sniffle, sniffle, sob, sniffle.Out came--out it had to come--Maida's $4."You blessed darling," cried Grace, now a rainbow instead of sunset."I'll pay the mean old thing and then I'm going to try on my dress.I think it's heavenly. Come up and look at it. I'll pay the moneyback, a dollar a week--honest I will."Thanksgiving.The dinner was to be at noon. At a quarter to twelve Grace switchedinto Maida's room. Yes, she looked charming. Red was her color.Maida sat by the window in her old cheviot skirt and blue waistdarning a st--. Oh, doing fancy work."Why, goodness me! ain't you dressed yet?" shrilled the red one."How does it fit in the back? Don't you think these velvet tabs lookawful swell? Why ain't you dressed, Maida?""My dress didn't get finished in time," said Maida. "I'm not goingto the dinner.""That's too bad. Why, I'm awfully sorry, Maida. Why don't you put onanything and come along--it's just the store folks, you know, andthey won't mind.""I was set on my purple," said Maida. "If I can't have it I won't goat all. Don't bother about me. Run along or you'll be late. You lookawful nice in red."At her window Maida sat through the long morning and past the timeof the dinner at the store. In her mind she could hear the girlsshrieking over a pull-bone, could hear old Bachman's roar over hisown deeply-concealed jokes, could see the diamonds of fat Mrs.Bachman, who came to the store only on Thanksgiving days, could seeMr. Ramsay moving about, alert, kindly, looking to the comfort ofall.At four in the afternoon, with an expressionless face and a lifelessair she slowly made her way to Schlegel's shop and told him shecould not pay the $4 due on the dress."Gott!" cried Schlegel, angrily. "For what do you look so glum? Takehim away. He is ready. Pay me some time. Haf I not seen you passmine shop every day in two years? If I make clothes is it that I donot know how to read beoples because? You will pay me some time whenyou can. Take him away. He is made goot; and if you look bretty inhim all right. So. Pay me when you can."Maida breathed a millionth part of the thanks in her heart, andhurried away with her dress. As she left the shop a smart dash ofrain struck upon her face. She smiled and did not feel it.Ladies who shop in carriages, you do not understand. Girls whosewardrobes are charged to the old man's account, you cannot begin tocomprehend--you could not understand why Maida did not feel the colddash of the Thanksgiving rain.At five o'clock she went out upon the street wearing her purpledress. The rain had increased, and it beat down upon her in asteady, wind-blown pour. People were scurrying home and to cars withclose-held umbrellas and tight buttoned raincoats. Many of themturned their heads to marvel at this beautiful, serene, happy-eyedgirl in the purple dress walking through the storm as though shewere strolling in a garden under summer skies.I say you do not understand it, ladies of the full purse and variedwardrobe. You do not know what it is to live with a perpetuallonging for pretty things--to starve eight months in order to bringa purple dress and a holiday together. What difference if it rained,hailed, blew, snowed, cycloned?Maida had no umbrella nor overshoes. She had her purple dress andshe walked abroad. Let the elements do their worst. A starved heartmust have one crumb during a year. The rain ran down and drippedfrom her fingers.Some one turned a corner and blocked her way. She looked up into Mr.Ramsay's eyes, sparkling with admiration and interest."Why, Miss Maida," said he, "you look simply magnificent in yournew dress. I was greatly disappointed not to see you at our dinner.And of all the girls I ever knew, you show the greatest sense andintelligence. There is nothing more healthful and invigorating thanbraving the weather as you are doing. May I walk with you?"And Maida blushed and sneezed.

---

---