"Come here the first of November, and I will tell you. Our church are feeling rather poor this year; but if we decorate at all, you shall supply the evergreens. Here is my card. Shall you remember?"
"Oh, yes, sir! I should remember you, and where you live, without any card; but I'll take it if you please."
Mr. Follinsby put his hand in his pocket, and drew out his porte-monnaie.
"Suppose, Dick," he said, "that I give you enough to buy a hod now. It's inconvenient to do without one."
A flush of honest pride flew into Dick's checks, and even mounted to his forehead.
"I'm much obliged to you, sir," he said very seriously; "but I'd rather earn the money for it. Mother'd like it a great deal better. I'll be sure to be back, sir, the first of November."
He made a bow which would not have disgraced a drawing room, and was retiring when Mr. Jones held out his hand:
"Good bye, Dick," he said, "You've got a good mother, I'm sure."
"Yes, sir," the boy answered, his blue eyes dancing with pleasure. "She's the best woman in the world." He held out his hand to Mr. Follinsby, and said, "Thank you, sir," once more and went away.