Patsy, before the day was over, amassed nearly thirteen dollars. He carried it all home, and without saying anything to his mother, slipped it into the disabled teapot, where the money collected for him by the Clown had been kept.
The next day he quietly asked his mother if he might have ten cents of his money to spend.
"No, Patsy," she answered, "I'm keeping that ag'in the day you go into business."
But Mrs. Rourke was present, and she pleaded so eloquently Patsy's right to have "a little enjoyment of what he had earned," that his mother relented, and went to get it.
"Either my hands are getting weak," said she, as she lifted it down, "or this teapot has grown heavy."
She thrust her hand into it, uttered an exclamation of surprise, and then turned it upside down upon the table, whereupon there was a tableau in the Rafferty family.
"I often heard," said Mrs. Rafferty, "that money breeds money, but I never knew it bred so fast as that."
She more than half believed in fairies, and was proceeding to account for it as their work, when Patsy burst out laughing, and then, of course, had to tell the story of how the money came there.
"And so you got it be goin' after pawnbrokers, and be workin' on Sunday?" said his mother.
Patsy confessed that he did.