off with
timorous rapidity, eying shop windows full of cheap bread, cheap cakes,
cheap overcoats, cheap novels on the joy of being poor, all too
expensive for him.

Clean and upright and longing to be merry in a dour world, he sank down
among the spotted, the shiftless, the worthless. But perhaps when he
struck bottom--

He was not quite beaten. He never varied in the wistful welcome he gave
to Mother when she dragged herself home from work. But with an
increasing humbleness he accepted her as the master of the house, and
she unconsciously took the role. She petted him and comforted him and
worked for him. She announced, with the gaiety that one uses with a
dependent small boy, that they would have a wonderful party on Christmas
Eve, and with the animation of a dependent child he begged her to tell
him about it.

CHAPTER XI

The day before Christmas--an anxious day in Regalberg's department
store, where the "extra help" were wondering which of them would be kept
on. Most of them were given dismissals with their pay-envelopes.
Mother's fate was not decided. She was told to report on the following
Monday; the toy-department would be reduced, but possibly they would
find a place for her in the children's dresses department, for the
January white sale.... At the very least, they would be glad to give her
an excellent recommendation, the buyer told her. More distraught than
one stunned by utter hopelessness and ruin, she came home and, as Father
had once been wont to do for her, she made her face bright to deceive
him.

Under her arm she carried a wonderful surprise, a very large bundle.
Father was agitated about it when she plumped gaily into their
housekeeping room. At last she let him open it. He found an overcoat, a
great, warm, high-collared overcoat.

He had an overcoat--an overcoat! He could put it on, any time, and go
about the streets without the pinned coat-collar which is the sign of
the hobo. He could walk all day, looking for a job--warm and prosperous.
He could find work and support Mother. He had an overcoat! He was a
gentleman again!

With tears, he kissed her, lingeringly, then produced his own present,
which he had meant to keep till Christmas Day itself. It was seven
dollars, which he had earned as waiter at the piggery.

"And we're going out and have dinner on it, too," he insisted.

"Yes, yes; we will. We've been economizing--so much!"

But before they went they carefully cached in