"We have nothing to eat now," said Katy, bursting into tears.
"Mother has not been able to do any work for more than three
months: and we haven't got any money now. It's all gone. I
haven't had any breakfast to-day."

"Take 'em all, Katy!" exclaimed Tommy, jumping up from his seat
on the capsill of the pier. "How will you carry them? Here, I
will string 'em for you."

Tommy was all energy now, and thrust his hands down into the
depths of his pockets in search of a piece of twine. Those
repositories of small stores did not contain a string, however;
but mixed up with a piece of cord, a slate pencil, an iron hinge,
two marbles, a brass ring, and six inches of stovepipe chain,
were two cents, which the owner thereof carefully picked out of
the heap of miscellaneous articles and thrust them into the hand
of Katy.

"Here, take them; and as you go by the grocery at the corner of
the court, buy a two-cent roll," whispered he. "Got a bit o'
string, Johnny?" he added aloud, as Katy began to protest against
taking the money.

"Hain't got none; but I'll give you a piece of my fish line, if
you want," replied the bully, who was now unusually obliging.

"There's a piece of spunyarn, that's just the thing I want;" and
Tommy ran half way up the pier to the bridge, picked up the line,
and commenced stringing the flounders on it.