or countin'-room."

"I wish I could," said Fosdick, earnestly. "I don't succeed very
well at blacking boots. You make a great deal more than I do."

"That's cause I aint troubled with bashfulness," said Dick.
"Bashfulness aint as natural to me as it is to you. I'm always on
hand, as the cat said to the milk. You'd better give up shines,
Fosdick, and give your 'tention to mercantile pursuits."

"I've thought of trying to get a place," said Fosdick; "but no one
would take me with these clothes;" and he directed his glance to his
well-worn suit, which he kept as neat as he could, but which, in
spite of all his care, began to show decided marks of use. There
was also here and there a stain of blacking upon it, which, though
an advertisement of his profession, scarcely added to its good
appearance.

"I almost wanted to stay at home from Sunday school last Sunday," he
continued, "because I thought everybody would notice how dirty and
worn my clothes had got to be."

"If my clothes wasn't two sizes too big for you," said Dick,
generously, "I'd change. You'd look as if you'd got into your
great-uncle's suit by mistake."

"You're very kind, Dick, to think of changing," said Fosdick, "for
your suit is much better than mine; but I don't think that mine
would suit you very well. The pants would show a little more of
your ankles than is the fashion, and you couldn't eat a very hearty
dinner without bursting the buttons off the vest."

"That wouldn't be very convenient," said Dick. "I aint fond of
lacin' to show my elegant figger. But I say," he added with a
sudden thought, "how much money have we got in the savings' bank?"

Fosdick took a key from his pocket, and went to the drawer in which
the bank-books were kept, and, opening it, brought them out for
inspection.

It was found that Dick had the sum of eighteen dollars and ninety
cents placed to his credit, while Fosdick had six dollars and
forty-five cents. To explain the large difference, it must be
remembered that Dick had deposited five dollars before Henry
deposited anything, being the amount he had received as a gift
from Mr. Whitney.

"How much does that make, the lot of it?" asked Dick. "I aint much
on figgers yet, you know."

"It makes twenty-five dollars and thirty-five cents, Dick," said his
companion, who did not understand the thought which suggested the
question.

"Take it, and buy some clothes, Henry," said Dick, shortly.

"What, your money too?"