"My other books I should like divided between Harry, Joe, and Nelly. That will be fourteen each. You will know which to choose for them. Father, are my clothes mine?"
"Surely they are, my dear lad."
"To do whatever I like with?"
"Whatever you like, my boy."
"I am glad of that, because there is something I very much wish to do. Timothy is just my height, father."
"Yes, my boy, he is."
Timothy held his breath, divining the idea bred by the thoughtful love of his friend.
"Has he told you that he can get a good situation if he has a decent suit of clothes to go in?"
"No, Teddy; but I am glad to hear it."
"He'll tell you all about it another time--not now, because my breath is going. Would you believe that the only thing in the world he can call his own is a fowl? Such a wonderful layer! That is how it was he was able to bring the new-laid egg to me. I should like Timothy to have my best trousers, my best coat and waistcoat, my best shirt--no, two shirts--and my best boots."