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in your charge when she's with you—don't you forget it."

"He's not goin' to boss me!" announced Nita, resenting this.

"No bossing about it. Hugh knows what I mean. A gent takes care of a lady."

"Huh!—Dad doesn't. You take care of him!" said her daughter—whose experience, indeed, had not shown her that much tenderness was bestowed on the ladies of a circus.

"Don't you answer me back, Miss," Mrs. Dan retorted. "Now, if you've finished, an' Hugh's got no job on, you can run out."

Hugh was still gazing lovingly at his shilling. He looked up hopefully.

"Could we—could we go an' spend it?"

"O-oh—let's!" cried Nita.

"Well, be off. Mind you behave nice in the township."

That was a wonderful spending. If you have never in your life owned a whole shilling its possibilities at first seem beyond any exhausting, even though Hugh intended at least four presents to come out of it. Close inspection of the windows of the township stores checked his ambitions considerably, but there was lingering joy in poring over their contents and picturing all that a wage-earner and capitalist might do.

He had no personal wants: the sweet-shop windows were delirious visions, but his trainers had strictly forbidden sweets, so he ignored them—though Nita flattened her nose against each. The shilling provided studs for

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