"It generally does," I said. "Either you've got the money, and then it seems such a waste; or you haven't got it, and then it's a lifetime of misery. Debt, my boy, is an awful thing."
"Don't rag, Uncle Harry; I've got the money all right."
"Then be a man and shell out."
"Yes, but that's just what I can't do. It's this way: the price of the bicycle is five pounds seventeen and sixpence."
"And a very good price too."
"It's got three gears and a lamp and everything complete. Well, I've got three pounds ten in the Post-Office Savings Bank. I put it in in London."
"That's a good beginning, anyhow."
"Yes, and Aunt Mary gave me a pound for my birthday, and I put that in at the post-office here yesterday. It's better not to keep pounds in your pocket."
"Quite right," I said; "we have now got to four pounds ten."
"And Grandma sent me a pound this morning in a postal-order."