"The rich and poor meet together; the Lord is the Maker of them all."
The boys gathered around the stove before school, and talked. The
boys,--not all of them, by any means. Only that small, select number who
were above, and led all the rest. Tip wandered outside of the circle,
feeling very forlorn; he didn't belong anywhere these days. Bob and his
friends had very nearly deserted him; there was scarcely any of their fun
in which he had time or desire to join, and the other cliques in school
had never noticed him; so he stood outside, and wondered what he should
do with himself. Howard Minturn wheeled suddenly away from the boys, and
called to him,--
"Tip, see here."
And Tip went there.
"What do you want?" he asked crossly; for some way he felt out of sorts
with that company of finely-dressed boys around the stove.
"Want you to come over to-night. It's my birthday, you know, and some of
the boys are coming to take tea, and spend the evening. Can you come?"
Tip's wide-open eyes spoke his astonishment. "What do you want of me?" he
asked at last, speaking boldly just what he thought.
"Why, I want you to come and help have a nice time," returned Howard,
with great kindness, but just a little condescension in his tone.
Tip heard it, and his bitterness showed itself a little. "It's a new
streak you've got, ain't it?" he said, still speaking crossly. "You've
had lots of birthdays, and this is the first one _I've_ heard of."
"Oh, well!" said Howard proudly, flushing as he spoke; "if you don't want
to come, why"--
Mr. Burrows' hand was laid on Howard's arm. "Don't spoil a good, noble
thing, my boy. It is all new to Edward; _urge_ him."
Mr. Burrows spoke low, so no one else could hear him, and turned away.
At recess Howard sought out Tip.
"I honestly hope you'll come to-night, Tip, for you're a good fellow to
play games with, and the boys would all like to have you."
Tip had quarrelled with his ill-humour, and it had vanished.
"I'll come," he said, in a cheery tone; "only I'll look like a big
rag-bag by the side of _you_ fellows."
"Never mind," said Howard, turning to join the boys, "_you_ come."
Why had Howard Minturn invited him to the grand birthday party? This was
the question that puzzled Tip. Had he known the reason, it would have
been like this: Mr. Minturn had never quite lost sight of Tip since the
circus. He wanted to help him,--wanted to do it through his son; only he
wanted the son to think that he did it himself. Knowing Howard pretty
well, he said, when they were seated at breakfast that morning,--
"I've just been reading about a real hero."
Howard longed to be a hero; he looked up eagerly.
"Who was he, father? What did he do?"
"He was a rich young man, and he had the courage to take for his friend a
poor fellow who hadn't two cents to his name. To pay him, the time came
when he was proud to be noticed by the great man who was once so low."
This thought was still in Howard's mind when he walked with Ellis to
school. So, when Ellis said, "There goes Tip Lewis; father thinks we boys
ought to notice him; he is trying real hard now-a-days to behave himself,
you know," it was easy for Howard to mingle Tip in with his thoughts.
"Ellis," he said, after a moment's silence, "suppose I invite him to come
to our house to-night? He's a splendid good fellow to have a game; never
gets mad, you know."
"S'pose he'd come?" asked Ellis.
"Yes, of course; jump at the chance. _I'll do it_. Our boys will think it
odd, I suppose; but I guess I have courage enough to do as I please."
And Howard drew himself up proudly, and thought of his father's hero.
So this was why Tip was invited to the birthday gathering at the grand
house on the hill.
Mrs. Lewis sewed, that afternoon, on his jacket, mending it up more
neatly than ever before. She had said very little about this invitation,
but she couldn't help feeling proud and gratified over it. It was
certainly a wonderful jump for Tip, from mingling with the worst and
lowest boys in town, to find himself taking a long stride, and reaching
the very top. So Mrs. Lewis sewed, and Kitty, as she sat watching the
needle fly back and forth, spoke her thoughts:
"All of the boys down to Mr. Burrows' school wear white collars on
their jackets."
"Well," answered her mother snappishly, "what's that to me? S'posing
they wear white _cats_ on their jackets, I could get him one just as
easy as t'other."
It was a sore subject with Mrs. Lewis. From her very heart she wished she
could dress Tip in broadcloth to-day, just as fine as that which Howard
Minturn himself wore, and a collar so white and shiny that it would
fairly dazzle the eyes of the others to look upon it; but, since she was
so powerless to do what she would, it made her cross.
The bedroom door was open, and Tip's father heard. By and by, when his
cough was quieter, he called, "Kitty!" and the little girl went in to
him. "Is the jacket fixed, Kitty?"
"Yes."
"Does it look nice?"
"Some."
"Would you like to find a collar for Tip to wear?"
"Well enough," said Kitty wonderingly.
"Well, now, I've got two or three that I don't wear any more, and never
shall, I guess" (this last spoken sadly); "s'pose you take one of
'em--they're in that square box under the table--and see if you can't sew
it on the jacket, and make it look like what the other boys wear? Now,
you try what you can do, just to see what Tip will say."
Kitty went slowly over to the box. This was new work for her, but her
father was very pale to-day, and those sadly-spoken words, "and never
shall, I guess," had quieted her; so she made no answer, but drew out one
of the collars. It looked nice and white, and shone, too. Mrs. Lewis had
done it up late one night, with tears in her eyes, because she could not
hope that it would be worn again.
"What are you doing with that?" she asked sharply, as Kitty appeared from
the bedroom.
"Father wants Tip to wear it," answered Kitty.
"I'll lend it to him," spoke the sick man; "we want him to look as decent
as we can to-day, you know."
Mrs. Lewis said no more, but it seemed to her like giving up one more
hope of her husband's life.
Tip came down from the garret, with neatly-brushed hair, and dressed
in his clean shirt, nicely mended jacket, and the shiny collar. It
was wonderful what a difference that collar made; he didn't look like
the same boy.
"Kitty," he said, his face all aglow with pleasure, "where _did_ I get
a collar?"
"It's father's; he said wear it," answered Kitty.
"And how did it get on my jacket?"
"Jumped on, likely."
Kitty spoke in a short, half provoked tone; she was so unused to doing a
kind thing, that she really felt half ashamed of it.
"Well," said Tip, smiling all over his face, "if that's so, it's the best
jump it ever took, and I thank it from the bottom of my heart." Then he
carried his bright, good-natured face out of the little house in the
hollow, and went towards the great house on the hill.