his
shirt once in order to bring his face and hair into something like
propriety, that the contrast might not be too sharp.

There was a stirring of new emotions in his heart. Perhaps he then and
there resolved to be a genius, to be the president, or at least the
governor; perhaps he did, but he only gave his thoughts utterance after
this fashion:

"Jemima Jane! Do you tell the truth, you young upstart in the glass
there? Be you Tode Mall, no mistake? Well now, for the land's sake, a
fellow _does_ look better in a shirt, that's as true as whistling. I
mean to have a shirt of my own, I do now. S'pose these are mine after I
earn 'em. Oh, ho; _me_ earn a shirt for myself. Ain't that rich now?
What you s'pose Jerry would think of that, hey, old fellow in the glass?
Well, why not? Like enough I'll earn a pair of boots some day. I will
now, true's you live; it's real jolly. I wonder a fellow never thought
of it before. Oh I'll be some; I'll have a yellow bow one of these days
for a cravat, see if I don't!"

And this was the hight and end and aim of Tode's ambition.

CHAPTER VI.

NEW IDEAS.

"Come," said Pliny Hastings, halting before the hotel, and addressing
his companion, "father said if it snowed hard when school was out to
come in here to dinner."

"Well, go ahead, then," answered his friend, gaily. "Father didn't tell
me so, and I suppose I must go home."

"Oh bother--come on and get some dinner with me; then when the pelting
storm is over we'll go up together."

So the two came into the great dining-room, and Tode came briskly
forward to help them. Tode had been in his new sphere for more than
three weeks, and already began to pride himself on being the briskest
"fellow in the lot."

Pliny Hastings ordered dinner for two with an ease and promptness that
proved him to be quite accustomed to the proceeding; and Tode dodged
hither and thither, and finally hovered near, and looked on with
admiring eyes as the two ate and drank, and talked and laughed. Thus
far in his life Tode had been, without being aware of it, a believer in
"blood descent," distinct spheres in life, and all that sort of
nonsense. He was a boy to be sure, but it had never so much as occurred
to him that he could be even remotely connected with such specimens of
boyhood as were before him now. Not that they were any better than he.
Oh no, Tode never harbored such a thought for a moment; but then they
were different, that he saw, and l