"I will not take the whole of it. You will want it yourself. One dollar is enough. When I find Mr. Bayard, I shall do very well."
"Yes, Bobby, take the whole of it."
"I will take just one dollar, and no more," replied Bobby, resolutely, as he handed her the other two dollars.
"Do take it, Bobby."
"No, mother; it will only make me lazy and indifferent."
Taking a clean shirt, a pair of socks, and a handkerchief in his bundle, he was ready for a start.
"Good by, mother," said he, kissing her and taking her hand. "I shall try and come home on Saturday, so as to be with you on Sunday."
Then kissing the children, who had not yet got up, and to whom he had bidden adieu the night before, he left the house. He had seen the flood of tears that filled his mother's eyes, as he crossed the threshold; and he could not help crying a little himself. It is a sad thing to leave one's home, one's mother, especially, to go out into the great world; and we need not wonder that Bobby, who had hardly been out of Riverdale before, should weep. But he soon restrained the flowing tears.
"Now or never!" said he, and he put his best foot forward.
It was an epoch in his history, and though he was too young to realize the importance of the event, he seemed to feel that what he did now was to give character to his whole future life.