through, if you give it a chance."

This is what Mr. Holbrook had said when he gave Tip his Bible. And Tip
had thought of his words very often, had already proved them true more
than once; but he didn't see how it could help him now.

He took it out, and slowly turned the leaves; it couldn't write his
composition for him, that was certain. But oh, the bright thought that
came to Tip just then! Why not find his acrostic in the Bible, and write
it out? among so many, _many_ verses, he would be sure to find what he
wanted. But then, how very queer it would be for _him_, Tip Lewis, to
copy anything from the Bible! What would the boys think? What would Bob
Turner say? Still, what else could he do? Besides his spelling-book and a
worn arithmetic, it was the only book that he had in the world.

"I don't care," he said suddenly, after a few moments of troubled
thought. "I guess I ain't ashamed of my Bible,--it's the only thing I've
got that I needn't be ashamed of. I'll _do_ it. The boys have got to know
that I've turned over a new leaf. I wish they did; the sooner they know
it the better. I say, my lamp shall help me out of this scrape, that's as
true as can be; it helps me whenever I give it a chance."

He fumbled in his pocket and drew out an old stump of a pencil. The next
thing was a piece of paper; he dived his hand down into another pocket,
producing a rusty knife, pieces of string, a chestnut or two, and,
finally, a crumpled piece of paper on which Bob Turner had scrawled what
he called a likeness of Mr. Burrows, and given to Tip for a keepsake. He
spread it out on a flat stone which lay near him, and began his work.

A long, slow work it was for Tip. Hours of that day, and the next, and