"Tell away," answered Nat, wishing he had brought his fiddle, it was so shady and quiet here.
"Well, we fellows were talking over the late interesting case of circumstantial evidence," said Tommy, quoting at random from a speech Franz had made at the club, "and I proposed giving Dan something to make up for our suspecting him, to show our respect, and so on, you know something handsome and useful, that he could keep always, and be proud of. What do you think we chose?"
"A butterfly-net; he wants one ever so much," said Nat, looking a little disappointed, for he meant to get it himself.
"No, sir; it's to be a microscope, a real swell one, that we see what-do-you-call-ems in water with, and stars, and ant-eggs, and all sorts of games, you know. Won't it be a jolly good present?" said Tommy, rather confusing microscopes and telescopes in his remarks.
"Tip-top! I'm so glad! Won't it cost a heap, though?" cried Nat, feeling that his friend was beginning to be appreciated.
"Of course it will; but we are all going to give something. I headed the paper with my five dollars; for if it is done at all, it must be done handsome."
"What! all of it? I never did see such a generous chap as you are;" and Nat beamed upon him with sincere admiration.
"Well, you see, I've been so bothered with my property, that I'm tired of it, and don't mean to save up any more, but give it away as I go along, and then nobody will envy me, or want to steal it, and I shan't be
