"What a pity you are poor, Charlie. I wish you could come to school with us."
"So do I, Eddie. I'd give a good deal to get an education, but I feel that I ought to help mother."
"Why won't you come some time, and see us, Charlie? Clare and myself would be very glad to see you at any time."
"I should like to go," said Charlie, "but I don't look fit."
"Oh, never mind about your clothes. I like you just as well as if you were dressed in style."
"Perhaps I'll come some time," said Charlie. "I'd invite you to come and see me, but we live in a poor place."
"Just as if I should care for that. I will come whenever I get an invitation."
"Then come next Saturday afternoon. I will be waiting for you as you come out of school."
Charlie little thought where he would be when Saturday came.
Shortly after the boys separated, and Charlie's attention was arrested by the sight of an old man with a shambling gait, who was bending over and anxiously searching for something on the sidewalk. Charlie recognized him at once as "old Manson, the miser," for this was the name by which he generally went.