Mr. P. shook his head; but Bertie would not give up yet, and added encouragingly,—
"Mamma says people are never too old to learn, and papa says Latin makes all the other langwitches easy; I see lots of Latin books, and you read 'em, so I'm sure, if you listen to my sparrows, when I feed 'em, you can understand some of their talk."
"I'll try, and let you know how I get on," said Mr. P., laughing as if he didn't know how very well, but couldn't help making the attempt.
"I'm very much obliged to you, sir, and I shall be glad to pay you for your trouble. I've got two dollars in my tin bank, and I'll smash it, and get 'em out, if that will be enough," said Bertie, suddenly remembering to have heard that Mr. P. was not rich.
"No, boy, I don't want your pennies, you shall pay in some other way, if I succeed," answered the Professor, with a touched sort of look about the spectacles.
"I've had a very nice time. Good day, sir," and Bertie held out his hand, as he made his best bow.
"Good day, boy. Come again."
I think there must have been some magic about that blue mitten, or the warm little hand inside, for, as he held it quite buried up in his own big one, Mr. P. suddenly stooped down, and said, in a queer, bashful sort of tone,—
"Suppose you pay with kisses, if you have any to spare."
"I've got hundreds; I always keep 'em ready, because mamma needs so many," and Bertie held up his rosy mouth, as if this sort of coin best suited the treasury of a loving heart.