Mr. Sharps whistles a minute. He thought he could not do it. No, he was too poor.
“Well, then, Willie,” said Sammy, “we’ll go across the street and try the agent of the Hillrocks and Nibbs machine. I think Mr. Betweens will take my offer.”
“O!” said Mr. Sharps, “you don’t want that machine. It’s only a single thread, and it will ravel, and—well—you don’t want that.”
“Indeed, my mother says there isn’t a pin to choose between them,” said Sammy; “and I can give Mr. Betweens just as good a notice as I could give you.”
“Very well, take the machine for fifty dollars. I do it just out of pity for the widow, you know. I never could stand by and see suffering and not relieve it. You won’t forget about that notice in the Daily Bugle, though, will you?”
No, Sammy wouldn’t forget.
It was now the day before Christmas, and the boys thought they had better get the machine down there.
So they found Billy Horton, who belonged to their class, and who drove an express wagon, and told him about it. He undertook to take it down. But first, he drove around the town and picked up all the boys of the class, that they might share in the pleasure.
Meantime, a gentleman who had heard of Willie’s efforts, gave him a five dollar bill for widow Martin. This Willie invested in provisions, which he instructed the grocer to send to the widow.