“A butterfly-net; he wants one ever so much,” said Nat, looking a little disappointed, for he meant to get it himself.
“No, sir; it’s to be a microscope, a real swell one, that we see what-do-you-call-’ems in water with, and stars, and ant-eggs, and all sorts of games, you know. Won’t it be a jolly good present?” said Tommy, rather confusing microscopes and telescopes in his remarks.
“Tip-top! I’m so glad! Won’t it cost a heap, though?” cried Nat, feeling that his friend was beginning to be appreciated.
“Of course it will; but we are all going to give something. I headed the paper with my five dollars; for if it is done at all, it must be done handsome.”
“What! all of it? I never did see such a generous chap as you are;” and Nat beamed upon him with sincere admiration.
“Well, you see, I’ve been so bothered with my property, that I’m tired of it, and don’t mean to save up any more, but give it away as I go along, and then nobody will envy me, or want to steal it, and I shan’t be suspecting folks, and worrying about my old cash,” replied Tommy, on whom the cares and anxieties of a millionaire weighed heavily.
“Will Mr. Bhaer let you do it?”
“He thought it was a first-rate plan, and said that some of the best men he knew preferred to do good with their money, instead of laying it up to be squabbled over when they died.”
“Your father is rich; does he do that way?”