want to take
you home with them for a long visit. We've been looking all over for
you. I've been putting your best clothes in a bag, but you'll have to
be careful about holding it shut, because I can't find the key. Now
hurry and dress yourself if you want to go."

Charlie gave a loud whistle of delight and hastened to the house to
arrange his toilet. He washed his face and hands, brushed his hair, put
on a clean collar, and then went to the kitchen to blacken his shoes. He
expected to find them on his feet, but lo! there were only the slippers
and rubbers, donned in the forenoon and forgotten until now.

"Ma! where are my shoes?" he called in stentorian tones. Mrs. Upton
replied from above stairs, where she was putting a stitch in her son's
cap: "I don't know--haven't seen them."

"Well, I left them in the kitchen last night. Here, Maria, help a
fellow, won't you? I can't find my shoes and it's nearly train time.
There's Jenkins at the door now."

The united efforts of all present resulted in finding the shoes
entangled in an afghan which Mrs. Upton had unintentionally placed in
the heap in the closet when she relieved the sofa of its burden.

"Here they are at last. Bravo!" shouted Charlie. Yet his joy was short
lived. One shoe wouldn't go on. He had slipped it off on the previous
night without unfastening. There were several knots in the string, and
all were unmanageable. He struggled breathlessly while Uncle Josh and
Aunt Jane were getting into the cab, then broke the string in
desperation just as Jenkins, hearing the car-whistle, drove off to reach
the train.

"Very sorry! Can't wait another instant!" called out Uncle Josh.
Charlie, having repaired damages as best he could, reached the front
door in time to see the back of the carriage away down the street.

"Time and tide wait for no man," observed his mother exasperatingly.
Perhaps her quotation of the proverb carried with it the weight of her
experience. Perhaps she thought it her duty to give moral lessons to her
son, regardless of illustrations.

Charlie's disappointment was rendered bitterer still, when the following
week there came a letter from Uncle Josh saying that he and Aunt Jane
were about taking a trip to the West.

"Tell Charlie," said the letter, "that if we only had him with us we
should certainly take him along."

"Isn't it too bad," said Charlie, "to think I've missed so much, and all
through the want of a shoe-string?"

Uncle