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My l4-year-old son, John, and I spotted the coatsimultaneously（同时地）. It was hanging on arack（齿条，行李架）at a secondhand clothing store in Northampton Mass, crammed in withshoddy（假冒的，劣质的）trench coats and anassortment（分类，混合物）of sad, woolen overcoats -- a rose among thorns. While the other coatsdrooped（下垂，消沉）, this one looked as if it were holding itself up. The thick, black wool of the double-breastedchesterfield（长大衣）was soft and unworn, as though it had been preserved inmothballs（卫生球）for years in dead old Uncle Henry's steamer trunk. The coat had a black velvet collar, beautiful tailoring, a Fifth Avenue label and an unbelievable price of $28. We looked at each other, saying nothing, but John's eyes gleamed. Dark, woolen topcoats were popular just then with teenage boys, but could cost several hundred dollars new. This coat was even better, bearing that touch of classic elegance from abygone（过去的）era. John slid his arms down into the heavysatin（缎子）lining of the sleeves and buttoned the coat. He turned from side to side, eyeing himself in the mirror with a serious, studied expression that soon changed into a smile. The fit was perfect. John wore the coat to school the next day and came home wearing a biggrin（露齿笑）. "Ho. did the kids like your coat?" I asked. "They loved it," he said, carefully folding it over the back of a chair and smoothing it flat. I started calling him "Lord Chesterfield" and "The Great Gatsby." | 
