“Because papa insists upon your putting some money in the bank every month—”
“Yes, and the result is that I never get my head above water. I owe you twenty now.”
“Which I never expect to recover, because you know I always get silly about Christmas and ‘forgive thee thy debts.’”
“You’re awful good—” he began.
“But I’ll be better if I bring you gloves and silk stockings.”
“I’ll give you the money!” he said, heroically. “Will you borrow it of me or of mamma?” I asked, with a chuckle at the family financiering which always goes on in this manner.
“Now don’t make fun of me! You don’t know what it is to be hard up.”
“Don’t I, though?” I said, indignantly. “Oh—oh! Catch me!”
He seized my handle-bar and righted me before I fell off.
“See what you did by saying I never was hard up,” I said. “I’ll tell you what, Teddy. You needn’t give me the money. I’ll bring you some gloves and stockings!”