"I did not; perhaps I spoke hastily. You know how hard I worked for this money; and it seems hard to lose it. But no matter; I will try again."
Mrs. Flint and Katy were much grieved when Harry told of his loss. They looked as though they suspected Edward, but said nothing, for it was very hard to accuse a son or a brother of such a crime.
Mrs. Flint advised Harry to put his money in the savings bank in future, promising to take care of his spare funds till they amounted to five dollars, which was then the smallest sum that would be received. It was a long time before our hero became reconciled to his loss. He had made up his mind to be a rich man; and he had carefully hoarded every cent he could spare, thus closely imitating the man who got rich by saving his fourpences.
A few days after the loss he was reading in one of Katy's Sunday school books about a miser. The wretch was held up as a warning to young folks by showing them how he starved his body and soul for the sake of gold.
"That's why I lost my money!" exclaimed Harry, as he laid the book upon the window.
"What do you mean, Harry?" asked Katy, who sat near him.
"I have been hoarding up my money just like this old man in the book."
"You are not a miser, Harry. You couldn't be mean and stingy if you tried."
"Yes, I could. I love money."
"So does everybody."