“Forty cents.”
“What do you say to ninety-three cents? Just look at this,” and Paul displayed his earnings.
“That is excellent.”
“I had good luck. Generally, I shan't make more in a whole day than this.”
“That will be doing very well.”
“But I shall make more, if I can. One fellow bought six neckties of me this afternoon. I wish everybody would do that. Now, mother, I hope supper is most ready, for selling neckties has made me hungry.”
“Almost ready, Paul.”
It was a humble meal, but a good one. There were fresh rolls and butter, tea and some cold meat. That was all; but the cloth was clean, and everything looked neat. All did justice to the plain meal, and never thought of envying the thousands who, in their rich uptown mansions, were sitting down at the same hour to elaborate dinners costing more than their entire week's board.
“Are you going out, Paul?” asked Mrs. Hoffman, noticing that he took his hat.
“Yes, I must go and see George Barry, and carry the money I have received for sales.”