“He will be very angry, I dare say; but he'll help you, won't he? He always does, Fan says.”
“That's the worst of it, you see. He's paid up so often, that the last time he said his patience could n't stand it, nor his pocket either, and if I got into any more scrapes of that sort, I must get out as I could. I meant to be as steady as Bunker Hill Monument; but here I am again, worse than ever, for last quarter I did n't say anything to father, he was so bothered by the loss of those ships just then, so things have mounted up confoundedly.”
“What have you done with all your money?”
“Hanged if I know.”
“Can't you pay it anyway?”
“Don't see how, as I have n't a cent of my own, and no way of getting it, unless I try gambling.”
“Oh, mercy, no! Sell your horse,” cried Polly, after a minute of deep meditation.
“I have; but he did n't bring half I gave for him. I lamed him last winter, and the beggar won't get over it.”
“And that did n't pay up the debts?”
“Only about a half of'em.”