"May I do what I like with it?" he asked eagerly, his eyes sparkling.
"Certainly," agreed his grandfather. "Spend it, or, if you like, you can open an account with it in the Post Office Savings Bank."
"I think I'd like to spend it, grandfather." The market reached, William Brown met several acquaintances who claimed his attention. He suggested that Billy should go and look at the shops and come back to him, adding that he would be there for an hour at least. Billy jumped at the suggestion, for he wanted to spend his half-crown. He thought he would buy himself a pocket-knife. It would be such a useful thing to have.
He wandered from shop to shop, gazing into the windows. At last he came to one in which were all sorts of fancy articles.
"I should think they'd sell pocket-knives here," he thought. "I'll ask, anyway."
There were several customers in the shop when he entered it, so the little boy had to wait a few minutes before he could be attended to. He passed the time in looking at some picture books on the counter. One, in particular, excited his admiration. It contained coloured prints of all sorts of birds, wild and tame. "How May would like that!" he thought. "I'll buy it for her!—that is, if it is not too expensive." Turning to an assistant who had come to him, he inquired: "What is the price of this picture book, please?"
"Two shillings," was the reply.
"Oh!" exclaimed Billy. "I can't afford that." He had hoped it might not be more than a shilling. If he bought it he would have only sixpence left. "What are the prices of your pocket-knives?" he asked.
"We have none less than eighteen-pence," he was told.
He stood undecided, thinking. May knew nothing about the book, and he wanted a pocket-knife so much. Harold had one, and it was most useful. But the book would be a great joy to May. Oh, she must have it!