to tell this one," he added, as several of those present gave a groan. "A little boy was looking for his shoes. He found one and looked at it thoughtfully, and then said: 'I dess you is the right one, and your brovver is the left one, but you is the left one, and your brovver ain't left 'tall, 'cause he's gone.'" And the story produced a smile all around.
In a few minutes came a triple rap on the door—a well-known signal—and Sam opened the portal, to admit Chip Macklin. The small student carried two bottles of milk under his coat, and his pockets were bulging with apples and pears.
"Hurrah! Now we can have a square meal and no mistake!" cried Dave, as glasses were produced, and the milk was poured out. "Chip, we owe you one for this."
"You're welcome," answered the little lad, with a smile. He was glad to be of service, in return for all Dave had done for him in the past.
The eatables were spread out on a studying table, and Dave and his chums proceeded to "fill up," as Phil expressed it. They made a hearty meal, and yet, when they had finished, there was a considerable portion of the food left.
"We'll not touch the pies or the fruit," said Dave. "Those can be saved for the spread later."
