don't talk street words to Miss Kate; she doesn't like them. I'll do
everything I can to make you have a good time, and you'll try to do a
few things to please me, won't you?"

Patsy looked embarrassed, ate his bit of bun in silence, and after
twirling his hat-crown for a few seconds hitched out of the door with a
backward glance and muttered remark which must have been intended for
farewell.




CHAPTER III.

TWO 'PRENTICE HANDS AT PHILANTHROPY.

"With aching hands and bleeding feet,
We dig and heap, lay stone on stone;
We bear the burden and the heat
Of the long day and wish 't were done.
Not till the hours of light return
All we have built do we discern."


Patsy had scarcely gone when the door opened again the least bit, and a
sunny face looked in, that of my friend and helper.

"Not gone yet, Kate?"

"No, but I thought I sent you away long ago."