g for something for some one else and not for one's
own gain or pleasure.

"When you go into a store, remember that you are doing something for
poor Paul Jordan and think bow you would feel if you were poor and
lame," he had said to Bobby. "When you ask Mr. Barber for something
from his shelves you're not asking for Bobby Blossom, but for Paul.
That will make asking easy for you."

The first store the boys went into was the hardware store. Mr. Gobert,
the proprietor, came forward when he saw the six boys.

"Want your skates sharpened?" he asked cheerfully.

The committee looked hopefully at Bobby. He had promised to "ask
first."

"We're going to have a fair," gulped Bobby, his cheeks red, but his
blue eyes looking at Mr. Gobert squarely. "It's for Paul Jordan and
his mother. And we thought maybe you'd give us something we could
sell."

"For that lame Jordan and his mother?" repeated Mr. Gobert. "Do you
mean to tell me they need help? Is Mrs. Jordan sick?"

"She has rheumatism in her hands," said Bobby earnestly. "And she's so
old and slow lots of folks don't have her wash any more. She's chopped
down all the fence to build a fire with. And she doesn't want to put
Paul in a home."

"Well, well," Mr. Gobert stared at Bobby thoughtfully. "So you're
going to help her out by giving a fair, are you? Where's it going to
be? Can I come?"

"At our house. Three weeks from Saturday," answered Bobby, wishing his
committee would back him up with a few words and not stand by with
their mouths and eyes so wide open. "We're going to have a play, too."

"I'm busy Saturday afternoons," said Mr. Gobert regretfully, "but I'll
send Mrs. Gobert up to buy something. Now I wonder what I have you
would like? How about a couple of nice penknives?"

Bobby thought knives would be very good indeed, and Mr. Gobert led them
over to the case where all the penknives were displayed and let the
boys choose any two they wanted. On his advice they chose a
pearl-handled knife for a woman and a stag-handle which would please a
boy or a man.

"Stop in at Hampton's," said Mr. Gobert when they thanked him warmly,
the knives neatly wrapped and safe in Bobby's reefer pocket. "He ought
to have something nice for you."

Mr. Hampton kept the stationery store, and when he heard about the fair
he promptly gave the committee two boxes of writing paper, a pad of
bright new blotters, and a bottle each of red, white, and blue ink.
"To