"I want to buy a new hat. This one is getting shabby."
Roswell's plan was, if he could obtain the four dollars from his mother, to make up the extra dollar out of sales unaccounted for. As to the failure to buy the hat, he could tell his mother that he had lost the money, or make some other excuse. That thought did not trouble him much. But he was not destined to succeed.
"I am sorry you are dissatisfied with your hat, Roswell," said Mrs. Crawford, "for I cannot possibly spare you the money now."
"So you always say," grumbled Roswell.
"But it's true," said his mother. "I'm very short just now. The rent comes due in a few days, and I am trying hard to get together money enough to pay it."
"I thought you had money coming in from your lodgers."
"There's Mr. Bancroft hasn't paid me for six weeks, and I'm afraid I am going to lose his room-rent. It's hard work for a woman to get along. Everybody takes advantage of her," said Mrs. Crawford, sighing.
"Can't you possibly let me have the money by Saturday, mother?"
"No, Roswell. Perhaps in a few weeks I can. But I don't think your hat looks bad. You can go and get it pressed if you wish."