Mrs. Morris smiled and patted his shoulder.
“I don’t earn enough for my board, too,” corrected Tom. “Just for my lodging. They don’t pay me very much because I’m not there very long, you see. I saved up some money last summer and the summer before. My board comes out of that.”
“Bet they don’t pay you enough,” said Sidney convincedly. “I know old man Wright. He’s Billy Wright’s father, you know, Mumsie. He’s a bit of a tightwad, I guess.”
“That’s awful slang, Sid,” Mrs. Morris reproved smilingly. “I’m sure you don’t use slang, Tom, do you?”
Tom grinned embarrassedly and Sidney chuckled. “I—I’m afraid so, ma’am, sometimes,” owned Tom.
“I’ll bet you do! Why, say, Mumsie uses slang herself, Tom!”
“Sidney!”
“Yes, you do! The other day you said something was ‘the limit.’”
“It was the butter we got from the new man,” laughed Mrs. Morris. “And it was the limit, too! Are you going to take this pair of skates, dear?”
“Yes’m; and he’s going to lug the other back. I guess you’ll have to wrap them up, Tom. I’m not much good yet.”